LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Shelf .:0..H-(a Z 



UNITED STATES OF AMERIOA. 



/ r 



CAUSATION 



AND 



FREEDOM IN WILLING 



TOGETHER WITH 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, AND 
KINDRED PAPERS 



BY 



/ 



ROWLAND GIBSON HAZARD, ll. d. 



^ 



EDITED BY HIS GRANDDAUGHTER 

CAROLINE HAZARD 





^^^ 




[rW 


m^m^ 




m 


tejflMi^JSQgi^l 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

1889 



x-i<:;. (oVv 



>^^ 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

LEE AND SHEPARD, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 

Copyright, 1883, 
Bt ROWLAND G. HAZARD. 

Copyright, 1889, 
By CAROLINE HAZARD. 

All rights reserved. 



The Riverside Press j Cambridge : 
Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Co. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



The two letters to John Stuart Mill, contained in 
this volume, were the result of my grandfather's con- 
versations and correspondence with that distinguished 
man. However they might differ in opinion, they 
entertained only the friendliest feelings towards each 
other. Mr. Mill was the most candid and generous 
of antagonists, giving all the praise he could, and dif- 
fering in the most courteous way. The letters were 
published in 1869. Mr. Mill writes of them. May 18, 
1870 : " Your present book confirms and increases the 
impression I already had of your acuteness, argumen- 
tative power, and perfect fairness, both in considering 
the subject and in discussing it. I do not think that 
your side of the question has ever been better repre- 
sented. The book, like your previous ones, does 
honor to American thought. It seems to me, how- 
ever, to mark that the discussion between us has 
reached the point at which there is no advantage in 
our carrying it any further ; since the region of dif- 
ference between us instead of narrowing, as is the case 
in controversies likely to have a successful issue, is, 
on the contrary, very much enlarged. The exhaus- 
tive manner in which you endeavor to meet everything 



IV EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

which is said in opposition to your conclusion, stirs up 
continual new ground, and raises a great number of 
fresh differences of opinion. Were I to attempt to 
answer you, I could hardly do so but by getting an 
interleaved copy, and writing something on every 
blank leaf ; for there are few pages of your book in 
which there is not some proposition or argument 
which I contest, and were you thereupon to follow my 
example you would have to write another book as 
large as this ; both of us would thus spend a great 
deal of time for no sufficient result, since no impor- 
tant practical consequences depend on our convin- 
cing one another. Our opinions agree as to the point 
of real importance in practice, viz., that the moral 
government of human beings, either by themselves or 
by their fellow creatures, must take place by acting 
either upon their knowledge or their wants; i, e., 
either upon their expectation of consequences from 
their acts, or upon their feelings of desire and aver- 
sion towards those consequences." 

Of the other papers in this volume, those upon the 
" Existence of Matter," and " Our Notions of Infinite 
Space," were published as appendices to the '' Letters 
to Mill." The subject of Infinite Space was one 
which possessed great attraction for my grandfather, 
and was the theme of his last conversation, only a 
few hours before his death. 

The letters to Mill, with their Appendices, were 
translated into German, and published by B. Wester- 
mann & Co. in 1875. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. V 

The reply to Huxley on "Animals not Automata" 
was published in the " Popular Science Monthly," in 
October, 1874. 

The letter on Causation to Dr. Francis Wharton 
was published in the latter's essay on " Proximate and 
Remote Cause " (The Liability of Railway Companies 
for Remote Fires) in 1878. The two discourses enti- 
tled " Man a Creative First Cause," were delivered at 
the Concord School of Philosophy, in July, 1882, and 
published in book form the following year. 

Oak WOODS in Peace Dale, R. I., 

November, 1888. 



CONTENTS, 



■ ♦ ■ 

PAGE 

Two Letters addressed to John Stuart Mill. 

Letter on Causation . . . . . . , 1 

Letter on Freedom of Mind in Willing ... 63 

Appendix. 

Existence of Matter 201 

Infinite Space 219 

Animals not Automata 227 

Letter on Causation to Dr. F. Wharton .... 253 

Man a Creative First Cause. 

Discourse 1 264 

Discourse II 298 

Notes on Man a Creative First Cause .... 837 

Analysis of Contents 439 



LETTER I. 
ON CAUSATION. 



My dear Sir : In your letter of June 7, 1865, I 
understand you to agree with me that volition and 
choice are different ; and as you do not object to my 
definitions of Will and of Liberty, I assume that you 
accept them. You further say, that " on the subject, 
practically considered, I am at one with you. Your 
view of what the mind has power to do seems to me 
quite just, but we differ on the question how the mind 
is determined to do it." You take position and argue 
the question thus : " But I do not find that your argu- 
ments in any way touch the doctrine of so-called Ne- 
cessity, as I hold it ; you allow that Volition requires 
the previous existence of two things, which the mind 
itself did not make, at least directly, nor in most cases 
at all — a knowledge and a want ; you consider as 
the peculiarity of a free cause that its determinations 
do not depend on the past, but on a preconception of 
the future ; but though the knowledge and the want 
refer to what is future, the knowledge and the want 
themselves are not future facts, but present, or rather 
past facts, for they must exist previous to the voli- 
tional act. You seem to admit, not only that the 
knowledge and want are conditions precedent to the 
Will, but that the character of the Will invariably 



2 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

corresponds to that of the knowledge and want, and 
that any variation in either of these determines, or at 
least is sure to be followed by, a corresponding varia- 
tion in the Volition. Now, this is all that I, as a neces- 
sitarian, require. I do not believe in anything real 
corresponding to the phrases Necessity, Causal Force, 
or the like ; I acknowledge no other link between 
cause and effect, even when both are purely material, 
than invariability of sequence, from which arises pos- 
sibility of prediction ; and this, it seems to me, on 
your own showing, exists equally between Volition and 
the mental antecedents by which you allow that they 
are and must be preceded." 

You then refer me, for further argument, to a 
chapter in your " Review of Sir William Hamilton," 
and in this I find reference again to Chapter XI, 
Book V, of your work on Logic. I may have occa- 
sion to notice portions of each ; but first, as to your 
letter of June 7, and the statement in it that you 
" acknowledge no other link between cause and effect, 
even when both are purely material, than invariability 
of sequence " — no " Necessity, Causal Force, or the 
like." We are here at the very foundation of the 
question, and if we here really differ, argument upon 
it may be of no more avail than it would be upon a 
question of the color of an object, when one man said, 
to his eyes it was red, and another that it was green, 
or, perhaps, rather asserted that there not only was 
no redness, but nothing to be either red or green. 

Your expressions, just quoted, seem to imply that 
change may take place without the action of any 
power to produce it. This no-cause philosophy pre- 
cludes all argument as to Cause or Causal power, and 
of course as to the mind in effort as such a cause or 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 3 

power. It denies, or at least wholly ignores, such 
power, and of course any exercise of it, free or unf ree. 

If " invariability of sequence " is the only relation 
between flowing or changing events, all reasoning as 
to how these events come into existence, or why or 
how^ conformed to this invariable order, is precluded, 
and philosophy is reduced to the mere observation of 
the flow of events and the memory of the observed 
succession. We have only passively to note the 
events that occur, and the repetition or non-repetition 
of the order of their occurring. In this view, Volition 
or effort is but such an event, and not a mode of 
power by which an intelligent being originates change, 
and controls, creates, and modifies the future, 

A wise man may perceive that it is best that he 
should move from a consuming fire, but if there is no 
causal force, neither the perception itself, nor the per- 
ceiving being, can cause either the consequent move- 
ment or the effort to move. 

Though the expression in your letter admits of such 
construction, I do not think you mean merely to say 
that you admit of no Causal Force, as between the 
exercise of the power and the effect of its exercise — 
no tautology of power — in which I would agree with 
you ; for the exercise of a sufficient power does not 
require the addition or action of another power to 
bring about the effect ; but I rather suppose you to 
mean that, between the antecedent events and the con- 
sequent events, you recognize, outside of the events 
themselves, no causal power of the difference or 
change from the former to the latter which constitutes 
the effect. This view, too, seems to me to be con- 
firmed by portions of your chapter on Causality, which 
I have just looked into: while in your attempt to get 



4 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

over the obvious objection that night and day, though 
invariably and reciprocally antecedents and conse- 
quents, are not causes of each other, I think you 
really postulate efficient causes as existing in " prop- 
erties of matter," and like phrases ; and in the excep- 
tion you make when you say, " We could predict the 
whole subsequent history of the universe, at least un- 
less S077ie new Volition of a power capable of control- 
ling the universe should supervene," you appear to 
admit (though possibly only in deference to the opin- 
ion of those who differ from you) that Volition may, 
or might be, an efficient Cause. 

Before proceeding further, it may be well to inquire 
into our notion of Cause. 

But first, as to the origin of this notion to which 
portions of your chapter on Sir William Hamilton's 
theory of Causation have called my attention. In say- 
ing, " But there is another theory : . . . that we ac- 
quire both our notion of Causation, and our belief 
in it, from an internal consciousness of power exerted 
by ourselves, in our voluntary actions ; that is, in the 
motions of our bodies, for our Will has no other 
direct action on the outward world," you approach 
most nearly to a statement of my views ; but there is 
still a wide difference. You add, " To this doctrine 
Sir William Hamilton gives the following conclusive 
answer. 

" ' This reasoning, in so far as regards the mere 
empirical fact of our consciousness of Causality, in 
the relation of our Will as moving, and of our limbs 
as moved, is refuted by the consideration, that be- 
tween the overt act of corporeal movement of w^hich 
we are cognizant, and the internal act of mental de- 
termination, of which we are also cognizant, there in- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 5 

tervenes a numerous series of intermediate agencies, 
of which we have no knowledge ; and consequently, 
that we can have no consciousness of any causal con- 
nection between the extreme links of this chain, — the 
volition to move, and the link moving, as this hypoth- 
esis asserts. No one is immediately conscious, for 
example, of moving his arm through his Volition. 
Previously to this ultimate movement, muscles, nerves, 
a multitude of solid and fluid parts, must be set in 
motion by the Will; but of this motion we know, 
from consciousness, actually nothing. A person struck 
with paralysis is conscious of no inability in his limb 
to fulfil the determination of his Will ; and it is only 
after having willed, and finding that his limbs do not 
obey his Volition, that he learns by this experience, 
that the external movement does not follow the in- 
ternal act. But as the paralytic learns after the Vo- 
lition that his limbs do not obey his mind, so it is 
only after the Volition that the man in health learns 
that his limbs do obey the mandates of his Will.' 

" With this reasoning, borrowed, as our author ad- 
mits, from Hume, I entirely agree." ^ 

Now, admitting all Sir W. Hamilton says, I do not 
see that it is a conclusive answer, or even an answer at 
all. The question here is not, what or how we cause ; 
nor what is the action of Cause ; nor on what does it 
directly act ; but how we " acquire hoth our notion 
of Causation^ and our helief in it.^^ Even if it could 
be shown, not only that there are intermediate move- 
ments which escape our observation, but that we are 
mistaken in the whole phenomena of muscular move- 
ment from beginning to end, it would not prove, nor 

^ Examination of Sir William Hamilton'' s Philosophy, Chap. III. 
Vol. II. p. 40, Am. ed. 



6 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

even tend to prove, that we do not get ouv notion and 
belief irom the deceptive appearances. It might, in 
such case, be plausibly argued that the notion and 
belief, being founded upon erroneous assumptions, 
would be fallacious ; but even this reasoning would 
not be valid, there being no necessary or real depen- 
dence of the genuine notion and belief upon the cor- 
rectness of the particular observation which suggested 
it. If I should say that I got my notion and belief of 
motion from the movement of the sun around the 
earth, it would hardly be deemed a disproof either of 
my assertion, or of the correctness of my notion and 
belief as to motion, to say, that the sun in fact did 
not move around the earth at all ; and even if it 
should be proved that motion was absolutely impos- 
sible, it would not follow that we had not thus ac- 
quired our knowledge and belief of it. Some idea of 
motion must precede any demonstration of its non- 
existence. 

This argument of Sir W. Hamilton, then, does not 
touch the theory as you have stated it, and if it had 
refuted that theory as effectually as you suppose, 
there was still another intrenchment to be overcome 
before the positions I have taken in '' Freedom of 
Mind in Willing," etc.,^ would have been disturbed. 
For it might have been shown that we could not by 
experience get our notion and belief of Cause from 
a mistaken or partial, or even from a full and correct 
observation of the influence of our efforts in produc- 
ing change ; and yet this would not have proved that 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing ; or, Every Being that Wills, a Creative 
First Cause. Published in 1864. "Creative First Cause" here sig- 
nifies one that of itself begins and effects change, and not one that 
is prior to all others, as some of the reviewers have supposed. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 7 

such notion and belief were not the result of an in- 
nate knowledge of a faculty of effort, and of its rela- 
tion to muscular movement, or even from such knowl- 
edge of the two extreme links of the chain of phe- 
nomena, — the effort and the muscular movement, — 
which is what I assert. 

In support of this view, I have there stated that we 
could not obtain this knowledge by observation of 
movement by others, either of their muscles or our 
own, the connection of such movement with the effort 
of others not being open to observation ; nor yet from 
reflection, no rational connection having ever yet been 
discovered between them ; and further, we could not 
have acquired such knowledge by our own experience, 
in mo vino- our own muscles, because we must have 
had the knowledge before any case of such experience 
could have arisen ; we could not make the effort to 
move the muscles, and especially with design to move 
any particular muscle, till we knew that effort was the 
mode of doing it. The very statement of the case 
precludes the supposition that it could be done by 
accident, without such preexisting knowledge. The 
making of effort, with the design to produce a specific 
effect, is the antithesis of accident, and wholly ex- 
cludes it. This reasoning, with the observed facts in 
regard to the earliest actions of all active beings, in- 
dicates that this knowledge is innate. Any proof 
that we cannot obtain this knowledge by experience, 
goes to confirm my position, rather than to subvert 
or weaken it. Both you and Sir William Hamilton, 
however, assert that this knowledge of our ability 
to move our muscles is acquired by our experience 
in moving them. In the concluding sentence of the 
argument, as above quoted, and approved by you, he 



8 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

alleges this, and even asserts that it is acquired in the 
same way as any bystander obtains it, by outward ob- 
servation (I take your statement of it). You both 
hold that all our knowledge of Cause is derived from 
experience. But, before there can be any experience 
of muscular movement by effort, there must be effort, 
— before " the man in health learns by experience 
that his limbs do obey the mandates of his Will,'' 
there must have been " the Volition," — the mandate, 
the effort, to move the limbs ; and to this end there 
must have been prior knowledge of the mode of mak- 
ing the effort, and especially of directing that effort to 
the particular muscular movement designed. There 
must also, prior to this experience, have been that 
'' prophetic anticipation " which can inform us, prior 
to experience, that the Volition will be followed by 
an effect ; or, at least, that there is such a relation 
between the two, that this is sufficiently probable to 
justify the effort, and which '' prophetic anticipation " 
you say you agree with Hamilton and Mansel in re- 
jecting. I confess that upon this subject I should 
have expected to find whatever three such profound 
thinkers, looking at the subject so differently, agreed 
in, invulnerable on all sides ; but, for the reasons al- 
ready given, I am constrained to dissent even from 
such authority. 

There either must have been self-action, — effort 
before we knew how to act, or there must have been 
knowledge of the mode of self-action, of making the 
effort, prior to any experience of it. Of these two 
alternatives it seems to me the latter must be adopted 
as the only one which is conceivable, and, in that case, 
the knowledge of the mode of making effort, and that 
effort is the mode of producing muscular movement, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 9 

must be innate — ready for us whenever the occasion 
arises. 

Without some such "prophetic anticipation " of the 
effect of effort prior to all experience, effort never 
would be made, and experience as to effort never 
could begin to be. No rational being would put 
forth effort without some prior expectation that a de- 
sirable effect would be produced, though it may be 
only by experience that he would ascertain that his 
expectations were well founded, and his future confi- 
dence in them confirmed. 

But all the phenomena of Instinct indicate not only 
that this knowledge of the mode of making effort, and 
that it is the mode of producing muscular action, is 
innate, but that from this central point, in which ac- 
tion has its start, there diverges the innate knowledge 
of the plans or series of actions, and of the order of 
the succession in each series, by which certain ends 
are reached. 

That complicated series of muscular movements by 
which the child transfers the milk from the maternal 
breast to its own stomach, is as well known to it at 
birth as after long experience. It even knows where 
to find this nutriment. I hold that the distinguishing 
characteristic of all instinctive action is, that it is 
made in conformity to a mode or plan which is in- 
nately known,^ while rational actions require prelimi- 
nary effort to design the plan, or the series of efforts 
by which the end may be reached, and that when, by 
frequent repetition of the same series, we come to fol- 
low it out by memory, each act in turn being suggested 
by that which preceded it, rather than by reference to 
the future end designed, the action becomes habitual ; 
1 Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Book I. Chap. XI. 



10 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

and thus the instinctive actions, which are our first, 
and prior to experience, are like the habitual (which 
can only be after much experience) in this, that in 
both we act in conformity to a plan which is already 
in the mind, ready formed, requiring no effort to form 
such plan. 

This similarity has found expression in the vulgar 
adage, " Habit is second nature." 

From what I have already said, it will appear that 
I do not deem it essential to our rudimental notion of 
Causation, that we should be conscious of all the in- 
termediate steps, from the first action of a Cause, or 
Power, to its ultimate effect, however necessary this 
may be to the completeness of our knowledge of the 
phenomena w^hich result from its action. I would, 
however, remark that in view of the exposition I have 
given of Instinct and Habit, it may be possible that 
we do know, or may have been conscious of, the in- 
termediate effect of effort upon the nerves and fluids 
by which muscular movement is reached. We know 
that when, by long practice, we habitually perform 
series of actions with little thought about the order of 
their succession, portions of them are immediately 
obliterated, leaving no trace in memory, and that this 
obliteration increases with the acquired facility which 
habit engenders. In reading we forget that we saw 
the particular letters, recollecting the final result of 
the combination of words, or more generally only the 
ideas, forgetting even the words by which they were 
conveyed to us. It would not be strange that we 
should, early in life, acquire the same habit in regard 
to the intermediate steps in a process which w^as per- 
fectly known to us at birth, which at no period ever 
required effort or even observation to learn, and which 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 11 

we are constantly repeating in every moment of our 
conscious existence, or that, under such exaggerated 
conditions, these intermediate steps should wholly 
cease to be the subject of memory. 

Having said thus much of the origin of our notion 
of Cause, we may next inquire what the notion itself 
is, of which we find ourselves possessed. If we should 
attempt to go back of this fact of the possession of 
a notion which is innate, we should encounter the 
same difficulties which attend our inquiries into the 
orijrin of matter. We have not witnessed its ere- 
ation ; to us it has had no beginning, and hence the 
circumstances of that beginning are as inscrutable as 
if it were an eternity ago. 

This notion as it originally exists, I think, is that 
of ability to do something — of power to do — to 
change what is, and thus bring about what as yet is 
not. It may be originally confined to the knowledge 
of particular cases, or even to the one case of muscu- 
lar effort by movement, which, as before shown, must 
be innate or intuitive in every being that Wills, and 
furnishes the type of the idea of Power, than which 
no idea is more distinct, isolated, peculiar, and funda- 
mental. If, however, my analysis of instinct is cor- 
rect, this innate or intuitive knowledge, as I have al- 
ready stated, extends far beyond this genesis of action, 
and embraces that of series of actions to reach an 
end. 

It is not essential to our idea of Cause or of Power, 
that we should know that we can by any means extend 
the effects of our efforts beyond our own muscles, or 
beyond the moment of effort. Having this genetic 
knowledge of effort, we may subsequently learn from 
experiment the modes of extending it, as, for instance, 



12 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

that by the use of a rod we may extend it in space, 
and that by throwing a ball we may extend it in time 
also. We do not thus reach the essence of Power, or 
of Cause, any more than through sensation we reach 
the essence of matter or of its properties. But even 
though we never get at this knowledge of it, we may 
still, in the study of phenomenal effects, and of that 
order of their succession which is so important to us, 
derive advantage from finding what existences have 
the property of power, and under what conditions it 
is manifested, as we may be aided in the study of nat- 
ural philosophy by investigating the phenomena of 
weight, and finding what substances possess it. 

That this knowledge of our ability to produce 
change by effort, was the original type of our idea of 
Cause, seems to be very generally admitted. Even 
Comte, while ignoring all causative power, virtually 
admits that Cause was originally predicated only of 
spirit power. I am far from supposing that a notion 
being general, or even universal, is conclusive proof 
of its correctness. A large part of our progress in 
knowledge consists in finding that such notions require 
to be modified or discarded. Still they have the ad- 
vantage of actual possession, and from the necessities 
of the case should hold till discredited, either directly, 
or by producing others with a better title to our 
credence. 

Assuming these positions, we have still to inquire 
what Cause really is, and whether the notion of it 
which arises from our conscious efforts in connec- 
tion with the effects anticipated, and subsequently ob- 
served, has been properly superseded. 

In this discussion I might have expected to find a 
leader, or at least an ally, in Sir William Hamilton. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 13 

But upon the question of the origin of our idea of 
Cause, he is against me ; and on tiiat of the idea it- 
self, he does not appear to have even found the battle- 
field. His theory is embraced in the formula, The 
cause is equal to the effect^ by which his subsequent 
reasoning and examples show, that he means the an- 
tecedents are equal to the consequents. Had he only 
used the word adequate^ which in some senses is the 
equivalent for equals it would have been the common 
expression for one of the relations of cause to its 
effect ; but this would have pointed the thought in a 
different direction. Grant the equality in any and 
every sense, and what is gained ? The question is not 
as to the equality of antecedents and consequents, but 
how, or by what agency or means, the antecedents 
come to be converted into the consequents ; and upon 
this their equality or inequality has no bearing what- 
ever. Equal or unequal, the question how or by what 
converted, remains the same. That a cask of brandy 
is in any respect the equivalent of a ton of grapes, 
in no way enlightens us as to how or by what the 
grapes were converted into the equivalent — brandy. 
His saying, '' This, then, is the mental phenomenon 
of Causality, - — that we necessarily deny in thought, 
that the object which appears to begin to be, really 
so begins ; and that we necessarily identify its present 
with its past existence," with his argument upon it, 
seems to me only to assert that, when Cause has pro- 
duced or made something, we cannot conceive that it 
made that something out of nothing, but that there 
must have been something, and a sufficient something, 
to make it of. 

I have defined Cause to be, " that which produces 
change."' ^ 

^ Freedom of Mind ^ etc., Chap. V. 



14 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

The word " produces," here, is important. Under 
your view, the corresponding expression would per- 
haps be, that which invariably precedes change. 

I notice that you use the word produce in connec- 
tion with the advent of phenomena, but I know it is 
difficult to conform the language to changes of thought 
and belief. We still speak of the sun's rising, and 
even of its going round the earth. In such cases 
much latitude must be allowed ; and hence when, in 
reference to certain Permanent Causes, you say, " these 
have existed, and the effects or consequents they 
were fitted to produce have taken place," I inter- 
pret the expression as meaning that certain perma- 
nent phenomena are fitted to be the invariable ante- 
cedents of the consequences which have taken place ; 
and so of some other similar statements. But as to 
heingjitted^ if power to produce is ignored, I cannot 
see why a tornado, a horse-race, or a bonfire are not 
each or all as well fitted to invariably precede an 
eclipse of the moon as anything else is. Leaving out 
this idea of power, all phenomena may be conceived 
of as happening in any assignable order of succession, 
or of coexistence. 

The phrase I have adopted still seems to me to ex- 
press the popular, perhaps I might say natural idea 
of Cause, and that which is nearly universal, the ex- 
ceptions being in those whose reasonings have led 
them to other views, and other expressions, which, 
were they general and uniform in this class, might 
properly avail against the notions of the large major- 
ity who have not investigated. I see, however, no 
reason to change this definition, though further eluci- 
dation and extension of it are needed. 

The knowledge of our ability to make effort, and 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 15 

that it is the mode by which we should seek to pro- 
duce muscular movement, perhaps, gives us the no- 
tion of Power, rather than of Cause ; but with this 
notion of Power that of Cause is very closely allied, 
though not identical with it. 

Cause is always the correlative to effect, and effect 
implies a change. Power always has some change, as 
the object or tendency of its exercise ; but it may be 
insufficient to overcome the inertia, passivity, or resist- 
ance of the present subsisting conditions, and in that 
case does not act as Cause, 

If this distinction does not obtain, I see no differ- 
ence between the idea of the exercise of Power and 
that of Cause. 

Cause, then, may be said to be power in successful 
action ; i, e., the exercise of a sufficient power. Power 
then produces a change — an effect — of which its 
sufficient exercise is the cause. 

This using Power as the generic term for the prim- 
itive idea, and Cause to designate this sufficient ap- 
plication or exercise of power which produces an 
effect, is a mere question of definition, to be settled 
as may be found most convenient and useful in 
expressing and advancing thought. The balance of 
advantages seems to me to be in its favor. 

Adopting this distinction, I would say that our no- 
tion of Power, and also of Cause, is derived from our 
innate knowledge of effort and of the effects antici- 
pated from it ; but that we can only know our ability 
to be the actual cause of any specific effect by exper- 
iment — by testing the sufficiency of our power in 
effort. 

The change sought or tended to in the exercise of 
power — the effect to be produced or attempted — is 



16 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

always in the future. In the past, what was, cannot 
be obliterated or made to be what it was not ; and in 
the present instant, what is, cannot in the same in- 
stant be what it is not. 

Cause, then, always implies effect, and effect im- 
plies change. This change may be within or without 
us, and may arise from the variation in what before 
existed, or in entirely new creation. 

In regard to some changes within ourselves, as vari- 
ations in the arrangement of our ideas, or in the por- 
tions which we make the objects of attention, we attri- 
bute them to our own direct agency. In regard to 
the external, we are not conscious of the possibility 
of creating matter out of nothing, or out of anything 
else, and hence attribute all changes in it to a change 
in that which already exists ; and this again to mo- 
tion of it in some form. Even change of color we 
come, by experience, to look upon as taking place un- 
der this necessary condition of material change. 

So far then, at least so far as relates to material 
phenomena, the statement that for every effect there 
must be a cause, is equivalent to saying, that for every 
change there must be motion or activity, and through 
this expression of it the law is resolved into the tru- 
ism, that for every activity there must be something 
capable of acting. If that which changes has in it- 
self the faculty of activity, we do not look beyond it 
for the cause of the activity, but only for the reason 
why it put forth its self-active power ; but if it does not 
possess this faculty of acting, but has only a suscep- 
tibility to be moved by being first acted upon, we still 
seek to connect it w^ith a self-active power, or cause, 
which moved or put it in motion. 

We know only one such Cause, and that is in intel- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 17 

ligent being, with the faculty or power of effort ; with 
wants, the gratification of which requires the exercise 
of this power ; and with knowledge to direct its ef- 
forts to this end. 

Such a being has every attribute essential to a first 
Cause., is obviously fitted to act as such Cause, and 
could do so in the absence of every and all other 
power; could of itself produce effects and changes, 
though everything else in the universe tended to be 
passive and changeless. 

That which acts as it perceives an occasion or op- 
portunity, acts from knowledge, and may itself exist 
in a passive state, till it perceives a reason or occasion 
for acting ; till, in its own view or judgment, action is 
better than inaction. 

The knowledge which is requisite to, or which con- 
stitutes, this judgment, may be passively received. 
Knowledge not only may be acquired without effort, 
but never is the direct consequence of effort.^ 

To this original notion of Power, and of Cause, de- 
rived from our innate knowledge of the mode of pro- 
ducing movement by effort, and thus to create or 
change the future, making it different from w^iat it 
otherwise would be, and which notion is constantly 
confirmed by our observation of external events, ex- 
perience leads us (properly or not) to add that of 
matter in motion, and to look upon it as a power 
which also affects the conditions of the future, and 
hence, as a Cause. But, although we thus naturally 
come to regard matter in motion as a cause, we do not 
look upon it as self-active, or capable of originating 
motion ; and hence, when we have traced some effect 
to the action of matter in motion, we still look for the 
^ Freedom of Mind ^ etc., Book I. Chap. III. 



18 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Power^ or Cause, which put it in motion, though in 
the case of the effort of an intelligent being, we only 
look for a reason why that being exerted itself, or put 
forth its power of activity. 

In the case of matter in motion (as it cannot put 
itself in motion), we must either refer the origin of 
its power to the only other cause, that of intelligent 
being in action, or suppose it to have been in motion 
from all eternity — positions which I have examined 
in '' Freedom of Mind," etc. 

If matter when at rest requires power to move ifc, 
and when once in motion has a tendency to continue 
in motion, — has power or force in itself, — then some 
effect must of necessity follow from the collision of 
material bodies ; for in such collision both are tend- 
ing to occupy the same space, and this being impos- 
sible, the tendency will be thwarted in one or the 
other, or in both. 

If matter was first put in motion by the effort of 
intelligent being, it is rather an instrument by which 
such being extends the effect of its causative pov/er 
in time or space than a causative power itself ; and in 
this case any uniformity in the succession of its move- 
ments is but a uniform mode of the intelligence which 
put it in motion, acting through and combining with 
such necessary effects of material forces as have just 
been mentioned. If the being using these forces is 
deficient in the knowledge of them, he may ignorantly 
make efforts which will be thwarted by them. 

Upon the questions as to how far matter may be 
cause, it may perhaps aid us to consider the real dif- 
ference between material and mental phenomena, as 
presented to us in the earlier stages of our cognitions 
of them. I have before pointed out that we know no 



\ 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 19 

other difference between our perceptions of external 
reality and the incipient creations of our own, in 
which by effort we realize new forms of it, than that 
we can change the latter by a direct act of Will, and 
cannot thus change the former ; and that if, from 
any cause, we should at any moment find that we 
could not thus change our own imaginings (of a land- 
scape, for instance), that moment the imagery so fixed 
would become to us an external reality.^ Is there 
anything in this, the only difference known to us, to 
warrant our assuming that the manifestations or 
imagery which we cannot directly change at will, have 
any more causative power than those which we can so 
change ? The imagery of both kinds is really all in 
the mind, but we indicate the distinction arising from 
this observed difference by calling that which can be 
directly changed by Will subjective^ and that which 
cannot be so changed objective phenomena. Among 
the objective are some which w^e can change indi- 
rectly by effort, and others which we cannot. We 
can, for instance, through muscular action, move a 
pebble, and in so doing make it a means of extend- 
ing the effects of our own efforts in space and time. 
We make it a secondary or motor cause.^ We cannot 
thus move a granite mountain, and for this reason 
cannot thus make it such a Cause. The facts ob- 
served in the objective phenomena, then, indicate 
that what is subject to our Will is most readily con- 
verted into Cause, and, so far as the analogy goes, 
indicate that causative power may be more properly 
attributed to this than to the objective. The former, 
subject to be changed by direct act of Will, may, as 

1 Freedom of Mind, Book I. Chap. IX. 

2 Ihid. Chap. V. 



20 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

in the objective, subject to like change indirectly, be 
made a secondary or quasi cause. Of the mathemat- 
ical diagram in the mind, in which we can embody 
new conceptions, we can make a cause of our discover- 
ing new geometrical relations ; and so far as we can 
by effort impart this conception and imagery of our 
own to other minds in fixed objective manifestation, 
we may make them cause of increased knowledge in 
others. 

This analogy does not, however, suggest that either 
the subjective imagery, which can be changed by 
direct act of Will, or that portion of the objective 
which can be thus indirectly changed, has any causa- 
tive power in itself, or that it can in any proper sense 
be itself Cause, but that, in both cases, the images or 
phenomena are merely instruments which intelligent, 
self-active Cause may act upon and use to extend the 
effect of its own efforts, as already stated. 

If the existence and motion of matter have been 
coeternal with spirit, then matter may be regarded as 
a distinct causative power, from the action of which 
certain necessary effects follow, which in virtue of this 
necessity will be uniform. In the action of an intelli- 
gent being there will also be a degree of uniformity 
growing out of its acting from its perceptions and 
knowledge of the best mode of reaching a desired 
result, and its adopting this mode, when once ascer- 
tained, to each recurrence of similar circumstances ; 
and a further uniformity in the action of different 
intelligent beings, growing out of the similarity of 
their natural wants, and the fact that the fountain of 
absolute truth from which each seeks to draw his 
knowledge is the same for all. The combination of 
these particular uniformities will constitute, or tend 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 21 

to, a certain degree of uniformity in the succession of 
events generally, enabling each intelligent being, with 
more or less of accuracy, to anticipate the future, 
which it may seek by its own efforts to vary, when it 
perceives an object or reason for so doing, and also a 
means of doing it ; while the wants and imperfect per- 
ceptions of beings of finite powers and capacities are 
sufficiently various to disturb the uniformity which 
would prevail if every one wanted precisely the same 
objects, and agreed as to the mode of obtaining them. 
There are many vague expressions, indicating as 
vague notions of power in association with them ; but 
we do not naturally attach the idea of power to any 
known thing ^ except intelligent being in effort, and 
matter in motion. I hold, too, that of these two and 
only notions of power, our knowledge of the former 
is much more conclusive and imperative than of the 
latter. The knowledge that we can make effort, and 
the mode of doing it, as also that by effort we can 
produce change, being innate, — born with us, — and 
acted upon every moment of our conscious existence, 
has, by longer and more permanent place in the mind, 
a stronger hold on our belief than the facts known 
only by subsequent experience through our sensations, 
which are transitory, and, coming through an addi- 
tional medium, are more liable to be distorted, as an 
object presented directly to the eye is more likely to 
appear as it really is than if seen through glass or 
water. But, be this as it may, we subsequently come 
to know the power of mental effort to produce change 
through experience, — through actual observation of 
the results of repeated experiments, — and hence the 
fact that mind in effort is such a Power or Cause, 
producing such change, is at least as well attested in 



22 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

these modes as the phenomenal changes themselves 
are through sensation. 

It is not by a prior exercise of power that we make 
effort ; effort — exertion — is itself the act of power, 
which may or may not be adequate to the effect in- 
tended — may or may not be actual Cause. The im- 
mediate intention of one class of efforts is always to 
obtain knowledge of what has been, now is, or will 
be, including those abstract truths which have no 
reference to time ; or to form new conceptions, new 
imagery — new creations — in the mind, which may 
or may not be actualized, or even attempted to be, in 
the external world. They may be the mere castle- 
building of the imagination. The only other class of 
efforts (no less mental) is always intended to move 
some portion of our body. It is through our bodily 
motions that we act upon the remoter material world ; 
and as we need to do this in a very early stage of our 
existence, we may, from the necessities of the case, as 
well as from observed facts, infer that we, at least in 
some cases, innately or intuitively know that we can 
extend the effect of our efforts by putting matter in 
motion. A child or kid would starve before it could 
experimentally learn that complicated series of mus- 
cular movements which it instinctively performs to 
obtain its nutriment. 

But to return to the two only modes of Causation 
of which we have any real conception — mind in ac- 
tion, and matter in motion. To these we attribute a 
property which we attribute to no other phenomenon 
or thing, and except between these and their effects 
we do not look for that invainable connection or se- 
quence upon which the law of cause and effect is 
founded. All other events may be conceived of as 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 23 

happening, and all other things as existing, in any 
conceivable variety of coexistence or succession ; for 
though it might appear that events could not happen 
at all without such action or motion — without cause 
— we can conceive of their existence abstracted from 
their causes. 

It is certainly proper that this peculiar attribute, 
by which these two things are contrasted with all 
others, should have a specific name — that what is 
thus distinguished in its nature as essential to the 
existence of all other phenomena, or to any change in 
what is — should be also distinguished in terms ; and 
accordingly we designate this ahility^ which inheres 
in and is characteristic of this action of mind, and 
this motion of matter, by the word Power ; and that 
sufficient exercise of it which produces change, by the 
word Cause. We recognize that without the exercise 
of some power to change present existences, they 
would continue as they are ; and this exercise of 
power to change, we attribute only to that which is 
active — to matter in motion or mind in effort. 

I have already suggested that our belief, that mat- 
ter in motion is in itself Cause, is, of the two, less 
strongly attested. Admitting the existence of matter 
as a distinct entity, with the property of resisting force, 
and that once in motion it has a force which tends to 
keep it in motion, requiring counter force to resist or 
overcome it (of all which, however, I have been un- 
able to find either proof or disproof), some effect, as 
before shown, must of necessity take place whenever 
the force of such moving matter comes to be exerted 
upon other matter. All the effects of mere matter in 
motion must be of this order of necessity, for matter, 
unintelligent, €an know no difference, and can have no 



24 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

power of selection. Hence, though, under the broad 
concessions to it above made, matter in motion might 
cause a certain current of events, or phenomenal 
changes in a certain order, it would have no power to 
change that order ; and if any power to change this 
order exists, it must be in the only other form of 
power — that of intelligent effort. Though matter 
once in motion may have this restricted causative 
power, it cannot move itself, and hence cannot begin 
the series of changes, for of such series its own motion 
is the first step. 

Even if we conceive it as having a self-active fac- 
ulty in itself, still, being unintelligent, it would not 
know when to exert it — when to begin moving — and 
an existing power for the exercise of which no occa- 
sion could ever arise, would of course be only latent, 
i, e., never being exerted, would never become causal 
power ; and if this difficulty were surmounted, it still 
could not know in what direction to move, and the 
exercise of a power to move which tends to motion 
in no direction is a nullity, or, if it tends equally to 
move in all directions, neutralizes itself, and ceases 
to be power. Hence the power to begin change, if 
any such exists, can be only in intelligent effort, and 
hence any beginning of motion, and any interference 
with the effects of such motion, must be attributed to 
such effort. Hence too, when we see any such effects 
which are not the results of our own efforts, we rea- 
sonably attribute them to the action of some other in- 
telligent agent, and in some cases, from the apparent 
power required, to an intelligence with power greatly 
transcending our own. 

The putting of matter in motion being the only 
means by which intelligent beings extend the effects 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 25 

of their own activity, not only beyond the sphere, but 
beyond the period of their own action, the necessity for 
this means might be supposed to indijate not only the 
existence of matter, but that, when in motion, it has the 
causative mechanical power usually imputed to it. But 
this extension and prolongation of the effects of the ef- 
forts of a finite intelligence in producing sensations in 
itself, and in others, after its own efforts, and in regard 
to others, even after its own attention is withdrawn, 
can as well be attributed directly to the action of an 
Omnipresent and Omniactive Intelligence, directly 
and uniformly causing these sensations, as a sequent 
of the efforts of finite beings ; and hence no such 
arofument in favor of the existence of matter, or of its 
power when in motion, is available. 

Some of the foregoing results may suggest a cor- 
responding solution of the question, "Is the effect 
simultaneous with the action of its cause?" to which 
you have alluded, apparently with some doubt as to 
the proper answer to it. 

The question may be embarrassed by the use of the 
word cause, to signify that actual exercise of power 
which produces change, and also that being or thing 
which, as occasion or opportunity occurs, can exert 
or manifest such power. This potential Cause may 
exist for an unlimited period without producing any 
effect, and of course may precede its effect by any 
length of time. But actual, effective Cause, being 
the exercise of a sufficient power^ its effect cannot be 
delayed ; for, in that case, during the period of delay, 
there would be the exercise of a sufficient power to 
produce the effect without producing it, involving the 
absurdity of its being both sufficient and insufficient 
at the same time. The effect must wholly result from 



26 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

causes in action at the time it occurs. If nine men 
are ineffectually pressing against a rock till with 
the aid of a tenth they move it, the effect is that of 
the immediate efforts of the whole ten, and the prior 
efforts of the nine are no part of the cause of its 
movement, but the efforts of the nine which are made 
simultaneously with the tenth are. It is the simulta- 
neous effort of the whole ten which availed, and the 
previous efforts of the nine added nothing, aided noth- 
ing, the combined efforts of the ten being just as ef- 
fective without these prior efforts as with them. 

The common idea that cause may precede its ef- 
fect, however, comes very naturally to us, for in all 
cases of our action on matter, even in that of the 
movement of our own bodies, we reach the end sought 
through the movement of some intermediate substance, 
and motion of substance implies succession, or time. 
We move the hand by an effort which causes a flow 
of blood to it ; of this, however, we are not naturally 
conscious, nor do we naturally get the idea that the 
movement of the hand is not simultaneous with the 
effort, that there is no intervening time or phenomena. 
Most persons are perhaps surprised to find, as a result 
of scientific investigation, that such is the fact, and 
that the intervening time is capable of being esti- 
mated, and found to vary in different individuals. 
But when we want to move the hand, or any portion 
or all of our bodily organism, we want to move it 
through some space — to some place more or less re- 
mote from that which it occupies — and the reaching 
of this place being the end or effect in view, the ele- 
ment of time of necessity comes in, and the repeated 
association of effort with the final remote effect pro- 
duces an idea that this effect may not be simultaneous 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 2i 

with the effort. The same reasoning more obviously 
applies to the effect of mere matter in motion. If the 
momentum of the body in motion is a cause, or is the 
exertion of a sufficient power to keep itself in motion, 
no time elapses between the exercise of that power and 
the effect or motion ; otherwise the motion would not 
be continuous, for this motion is itself the effect, and 
if it stopped at all, its momentum or power would be 
wholly lost, and its motion be immediately and per- 
manently arrested. It is a case in which, through 
association, experience misleads us as to the abstract 
idea, much as in the case I mentioned in a former 
letter, in regard to the general belief that a moving 
body cannot be turned directly back, without first 
stopping at the extreme point of advance. These 
fallacies of experience, as applied to the abstract idea 
now in hand, may perhaps be better illustrated by 
another case. Suppose an unelastic tube, reaching 
across the Atlantic, is filled to its utmost capacity 
with water brought to its utmost point of compression, 
for which the only egress is at the farther end. Now, 
if a drop of water is forced into the nearer end, most 
persons find it difficult to conceive that a drop must 
be simultaneously passing out at the other, and reluc- 
tantly yield their assent to the argument that other- 
wise the tube must at one time hold more than it pos- 
sibly can hold. 

As has already been intimated, the idea that Cause 
may or must precede the effect is also engendered by 
our applying the word Cause to that which as yet 
is not, but which may become. Cause. A moving 
body becomes actual cause of motion in another body 
at the instant it impinges or acts upon it ; but for this 
there must be a body in motion, and which may have 



28 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

been In motion prior to the effect. If, at the commence- 
ment of its motion, the moving body was already in 
contact with that which it moves, we regard the effect 
as simultaneous with the initial movement — with the 
action of its cause. So, also, in regard to causal ef- 
fort, there must be a being capable of effort, the ex- 
istence of which being may precede the effort and the 
effect. In either case, there always is or may be a 
potential cause preceding the effect, and this fact, by 
a confused association of the ideas, leads us to regard 
the action of cause as necessarily prior to its effect. 

The principal reason, however, for our habit of 
thinking of the action of cause as prior to its effect, I 
think, is the fact that the effects remain fixed till they 
are changed by the subsequent action of some cause, 
and hence enduring after the action of their cause, 
they occupy in thought a later position. We have to 
identify the action of the cause with the very begin- 
ning of the effect, and cannot even make it coexist- 
ent with the subsequent enduring existence of the 
effect, but precedent to it, and hence come to regard 
it as wholly prior to such existence. 

The logical order of thought, too, requires that we 
should first think of that without which the other 
would not be ; otherwise there is an hiatus in our 
thoughts. 

These views indicate that our notion of Cause does 
not of necessity include any idea of succession, but 
only the immediate action of a sufficient power at the 
moment, and so far militate against those definitions 
of it which involve the idea of succession. 

A difficulty may here be suggested in regard to 
the flow or progress of events in time, if they are all 
simultaneous with their causes. This difficulty can- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 29 

not arise as to intelligent effort, for, in regard to it, 
periods of non-action may continually intervene ; but 
if there are series of events and material phenomena, 
each of which is in turn effect and cause, it may 
be difficult to see how any time could elapse between 
the first and the last of the series. This seems to 
concern your theory, rather than mine. You will, 
perhaps, say that this difficulty disproves my posi- 
tion as to the simultaneousness of the effect with its 
cause. 

If, however, as I suppose, these series of events, or 
material changes, are always effected through the 
medium of motion, it need not trouble us, for there 
is precisely the same difficulty in regard to our con- 
ception of the motion of matter from point to point, 
there being no space, or length, between any two con- 
secutive points, and yet the body in motion gets from 
one end of a long line to the other, and, in this case, 
this difficulty just neutralizes the other. It may, per- 
haps, be compared to our having an irreducible surd 
on one side of an equation, and finding the same also 
on the other side ; or perhaps I may make my mean- 
ing more clear, thus : A workman, in laying a pave- 
ment, wants a block of a particular shape, say a square 
circle; he can neither conceive of nor describe such a 
figure, but he finds among his material a block which, 
though equally inconceivable and indescribable, ex- 
actly fills the space, and uses it accordingly. So, even 
if we cannot conceive how motion involves the idea of 
time, we may perceive that if it does so it may be a 
means of conveying events which depend upon it, 
through time also. 

From this statement of my own views, let me now 
turn to yours, as I find them in your " Review of 



80 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Sir William Hamilton," and in Book III. Chap. I. of 
your '' System of Logic." 

In the latter I notice two expressions in the form of 
definitions, though not distinctly announced as such, 
viz., § 3. " The real Cause is the whole of these an- 
tecedents ; " and again, " The Cause then, philosophi- 
cally speaking, is the sum total of the conditions, 
positive and negative, taken together ; the whole of 
the contingencies of every description, which being- 
realized, the consequent invariably follows." The 
context shows that you use the terms '' antecedents " 
and '' conditions " as convertible terms ; and hence 
there is no diversity in the two expressions. To these 
your definition in § 5, '' We may define, therefore, 
the Cause of a phenomenon to be the antecedent, or 
concurrence of antecedents, upon which it is invari- 
ably and unconditionally consequent," only adds the 
'''' unconditionally ^'' which, if I rightly apprehend 
your view of it, simply means, when the sum of the 
antecedents which the phenomenon invariably follows 
is not so changed., either by addition or subtraction, 
that the phenomenon does not follow ; which still, as 
at first, only amounts to saying that the Cause is the 
antecedents which the phenomenon does invariably 
follow, and not the antecedents which it does not 
follow : and this seems to be your conclusion when 
you say, § 6, " I have no objection to define a Cause, 
the assemblage of phenomena which occurring, some 
other phenomenon invariably commences or has its 
origin." In this you merge the terms antecedents 
and conditions in the one term phenomena, confirm- 
ing the idea that you use them as convertible, or at 
least embrace in the former all coexisting conditions. 
Cause, then, as you define it, is the assemblage of 



CA us ATI ox AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 31 

phenomena which some other phenomenon invariably 
follows; or the assemblage of phenomena which in- 
variably precede the effect. 

These formulas seem only to indicate a mode of 
experimentally finding what are causes, and not to 
explain or define, either our idea, or the nature of 
Cause; and the mode thus indicated seems to me 
fallacious; L e., would indicate as Cause what does 
not correspond to our idea of it. For instance, life is 
a necessary antecedent condition to death, and all ex- 
periment would show that death could not occur, or 
be a consequent, without life being one of the pre- 
existing conditions or antecedents. But is life, in any 
proper sense, the cause of death? It is true that any 
causes of change must always be found among the ex- 
isting conditions, and in some sense among the ante- 
cedent conditions ; but it does not follow that the con- 
verse of the proposition — that all antecedent condi- 
tions are among the causes — is also true. If this is 
not already obvious, I hope to make it more clear and 
certain that they are not before I finish this letter. 

But the definitions you have given do not eliminate 
causes from other antecedents, which, though neces- 
sary to the effect, have no agency in producing the 
effect. They do not discriminate between those pas- 
sive conditions, or mere states of things which have 
no tendency to change themselves, but are the con- 
ditions to be acted upon — and changed — and the 
active agency which acts upon and changes them. In 
short, they do not distinguish what produces from 
what merely precedes change ; nor, when applied to 
p)otential cause, between the susceptibility or liability 
of a thing to be acted upon, and a faculty of acting. 
Putty may be moulded, it cannot mould. 



32 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

In tlie passive but prerequisite conditions or ante- 
cedents, there may be no tendency to that change by 
which the consequent is distinguished from its antece- 
dents, and which change of the conditions is the effect, 
or the thing caused : there is no tendency in darkness 
to become, lead to, or produce light ; but the change 
from darkness to light presupposes the existence of 
darkness, and of an existence which is an indispen- 
sable condition or antecedent to the effect marked in 
the change from darkness to light, and hence, under 
your definition, darkness must be a cause, or at least 
one of the con-causes of this change. 

You directly assert and argue that all the conditions 
are embraced in the cause. You say, " Nothing can 
better show the absence of any scientific ground for 
the distinction between the cause of a phenomenon 
and its conditions, than the capricious manner in 
which we select, from among the conditions, that 
which we choose to denominate the Cause." The com- 
mon mode of speaking to which you here allude, I 
think merely indicates a loose mode of expression, 
growing out of an uncertainty as to what the cause in 
the particular case is, complicated with a vagueness 
in the generic idea of Cause. In a case you mention, 
this vagueness arises from an uncertainty as to 
whether the cause of the stone's falling is in the stone, 
or in the earth, or in both. 

But from this vagueness you infer that " it will 
probably be admitted, without longer discussion, thnt 
no one of the conditions has more claim to that title 
(of Cause) than another, and that the real Cause of 
the phenomenon is the assemblage of all its condi- 
tions." 

This is to accept in philosophy the vague terms and 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 83 

crude, unreconciled notions of common discourse, and 
upon the ground that they are thus common. If 
twenty men attribute a phenomenon to twenty differ- 
ent agencies, it is no indication that it may be prop- 
erly attributed to the whole twenty agencies com- 
bined ; but, on the contrary, the diversity in their 
statements tends to throw doubt upon the whole. 
Twenty falsities do not make one aggregate truth. 
Conversely, to my mind, nothing can better show the 
absence of any scientific ground for combining all the 
conditions, and deeming them the Cause, than that 
you find no better reason for it than this common no- 
tion and mode of speech. 

The above reasoning I think is properly applicable 
to the definitions I have quoted ; but you subse- 
quently seek a rectification of them to meet the diffi- 
culty which arises from such cases as that of darkness, 
regarded as a necessary condition or invariable ante- 
cedent to the change from darkness to light. You 
say, '' When we define the Cause of anything (in the 
only sense in which the present inquiry has any con- 
cern with Causes) to be the antecedent which it inva- 
riably follows, we do not use this phrase as exactly 
synonymous with the antecedent, which it invariably 
has followed in our past experience. 

" Such a mode of viewing Causation would be liable 
to the objection, very plausibly urged by Dr. Reid, 
namely, that, according to this doctrine, night must 
be the cause of day, and day the cause of night, since 
these phenomena have invariably succeeded one an- 
other from the beginning of the world. But it is 
necessary to our using the word Cause, that we should 
believe, not only that the antecedent always has been 
followed by the consequent, but that as long as the 



34 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

present constitution of things endures, it always will 
be so ; and this would not be true of day and night. 
We do not believe that night will be followed by day 
under any imaginable circumstance, only that it will 
be so, provided the sun rises above the horizon." 

But you have already said (and as I understand you 
in the same only sense as the above), that the only 
notion of a Cause is such a notion as can be gained 
from experience. Now, surely, the notion of what 
will 6e, as distinguished from what has heen^ cannot 
be gained from experience ; and, further, we do be- 
lieve that, "while the present constitution of things 
endures," night loill invariably precede day, and 
hence this rectification of the definition does not meet 
the difficulty ; for still, under it, as we believe that 
night not only always has invariably preceded, " but 
as long as the present constitution of things endures " 
always will so precede it, night is still the cause of 
day. In § 3, you have suggested a point which 
might obviate this difficulty. It may be said that 
experience shows that night is not of itself a sufficient 
antecedent to the consequent day, inasmuch as the 
night lasts for a greater or less period of time, and 
does not change to day till another antecedent is 
added to it — that of sunrise. But, in connection 
with this suggestion, you insist that this last condition 
(the rising of the sun in the above instance), ''which 
completes the tale, and brings about the effect without 
further delay, . . . has really no closer relation to 
the effect than any of the other conditions has. The 
production of the consequent requires that they should 
all exist immediately previous, though not that they 
should all begin to exist immediately previous. The 
statement of the Cause is incomplete, unless, in some 
shape or other, we introdno'> all the conditions." 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 35 

Undoubtedly, as prerequisite to the change, the 
conditions to be changed must all exist, as well as the 
agency which changes them ; but I question the ex- 
pediency, or even propriety, of thus confounding in 
the one word Cause the passive conditions which, by 
their inertia, resist the change, with the active agency 
which changes them. In regard to this case of change 
from night to day, our experience is, that the change 
of the darkness which characterizes night to a degree 
of light approximating indefinitely near to that of day, 
does invariably precede the rising of the sun, and we 
believe that this not only always has, but that, "as 
long as the present constitution of things endures," it 
always will so precede it ; and hence, under your defi- 
nition, the degree of light so approximating would be 
the Cause, or, at least, a Cause of the rising of the 
sun. 

Is not some other element needed to make out the 
distinction between antecedents which are Causes of 
change, and those which have no tendency to produce, 
but which resist such change ? The existence of the 
antecedents, as they are, always precludes the conse- 
quents, for it is only by some change in the antece- 
dents that the consequents come into existence. 

Darkness is a condition which excludes light, and 
requires the power of some active agency to change it 
to light ; and the same is true of all other fixed con- 
ditions, the change of which to their consequents is 
the effect for which a sufficient exercise of power — a 
Cause — is required. This sufficient power may be 
either the action or effort of an intelligent being, or 
that of matter in motion, or both. If matter in mo- 
tion is a distinct force, intelligent being may use it to 
accomplish its own ends. It may put it in motion, or 



36 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

direct its motion for this object, or it may so change 
the conditions to be acted upon, that matter already 
in motion, and directed in its motion, will accomplish 
the desired object. In the case of sunrise, we may 
suppose that the Cause producing light is always act- 
ing, but that there is some hinderance or opposing 
force which it cannot overcome ; and in such case any 
power which removes the obstruction indirectly causes 
light to succeed darkness, though it does not itself 
produce the light. The change to light is the conse- 
quence of the change which power has produced. 

In this view we may say that the motion of the 
earth is the Cause of the change from darkness to 
light, and it is thus referred to one of the two only 
sources of power of which, in my view, we have any 
knowledge or real conception. 

As no one can see the sun before it rises, so far as 
direct individual experience goes, we might as logi- 
cally attribute the whole phenomena to the other of 
these two powers — to intelligent effort, creating, or 
lighting up, a sun each morning, and annihilating or 
extinguishing it each evening ; or, dispensing with the 
intervention of matter, regard the successive sensations 
of light and darkness as the direct effect of such efforts. 

I believe that you have stated no case of Causation 
which is not referable to one or the other of these two 
causative powers — these only modes of activity or 
change. 

We return now to the question, w^iether our no- 
tion of Cause as derived from intelligent effort has 
been properly superseded. The substitutes are various. 
First, the generalization of external phenomena, as 
gravitation. Second, the phenomena themselves, either 
fixed, as the earth, sun, moon, and matter generally ; or 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 37 

flowing, as events and circumstances which follow each 
other. In this case the antecedent phenomena are 
deemed the Causes of those which follow. Third, the 
assertion either that there is no Causal power or Force, 
but only a uniform succession of consequents to ante- 
cedents, or that this uniformity is itself the Cause. 

In regard to the first, or generalization, of which I 
take gravitation as the type, there seems to be much 
latitude of thought as to the causal power; it being 
sometimes assumed to be in the name, sometimes to 
inhere in the generic facts to which the name is applied, 
and sometimes attributed to a mere hypothetical un- 
known power, the existence of which the generic facts 
are supposed to indicate, or perhaps to embody. 

As to the first of these divisions, we habitually use 
such terms as attraction, repulsion, gravitation etc., to 
classify phenomenal effects ; and hence, loosely associ- 
ating these effects with such terms, and these again 
with some vague notions of power which this association 
engenders, we come to speak of these mere words as 
Causes of effects which are properly referred to them 
only for the purpose of classification. In this there is, 
no doubt, often confusion of thought as well as care- 
lessness of speech ; but that there can be no causal 
power in the mere name, is too obvious to require ar- 
gument. Such power can no more inhere in " Gravi- 
tation," " Laws of Nature," '' Invariability of Se- 
quence," than in Equinox, Jehoshaphat, or Abraca- 
dabra. 

To predicate the causal power of the generalized 
facts would make them collectively the Cause of them- 
selves individually, and make them act on the past, 
or act as Cause before they existed ; for there could 
be no collection of facts before the existence of the in- 



38 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

dividual facts of which such collection must be made 
up. 

The last division in the first category — the hypo- 
thesis of an unknown power indicated by the generic 
facts — is perhaps the most natural of the three, and 
is in some respects analogous to that by which we at- 
tribute all the effects which are obviously beyond our 
own power to that of a superior intelligence. 

It also has its type in the ancient mythology, and in 
the rude notions of our Indian tribes, who conceive a 
different manitou for each variety of phenomena — 
one for storms, another for cataracts, etc. Science has 
extended the rude generalizations of these children of 
the forest, and embraced large classes of facts under 
the jurisdiction of each of its manitous, or hypothetical 
powers. 

When Sir William Hamilton says, '' Fate or Neces- 
sity, without the existence of a God, might account for 
the phenomena of matter,'* he must suppose that these 
terms either possess or represent some imaginary power 
capable of creating or producing the phenomena. This 
is also sometimes predicated of Chance. 

The notion of a purely hypothetical Cause cannot 
properly displace that innate knowledge we have of 
power by intelligent effort, which is confirmed by con- 
stant experience in its manifestations, or even that 
extension of this innate idea, by which we attribute 
all efforts to which human agency is inadequate to a 
greater power of the same kind — to an intelligent be- 
ing, whose power is of necessity presumed to be ade- 
quate to the production of the observed phenomena ; 
nor has such an hypothesis as strong claims to our 
acceptance as that notion of power which we acquire 
from the phenomena of matter in motion, and the con- 
sequences which we observe, or deduce from it. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 39 

It is perhaps worthy of note, as throwing light on 
the natural idea of Cause, that the manitou of the In- 
dians, as well as the ancient divinities, were spirit- 
causes^ while the hypothetical Causes to which Science 
has led some of her votaries, seem to be mainly, if not 
wholly, material. Have these their primitive type in 
Fetichism ? 

The next proposed substitute is that of the phe- 
nomena themselves. These, you think, are more prop- 
erly deemed Cause than either the generalizations or 
the hypothetical powers predicated of them, which I 
have just considered. Touching the question, " What 
is the Cause which makes a stone fall ? " you say, 
" The stone therefore is concerned as the patient, and 
the earth (or according to the common and most 
unphilosophical practice, some occult quality of the 
earth) is represented as the agent or Cause." Again, 
'' This class of considerations leads us to a conception 
which we shall find of great importance in the inter- 
pretation of nature — that of a permanent Cause or 
original natural agent. . . . The sun, the earth, and 
planets, with their various constituents, — air, water, 
and the other distinguishable substances, whether sim- 
ple or compound, of which nature is made up, — are 
such permanent Causes. These have existed, and the 
effects or consequences which they were fitted to pro- 
duce have taken place (as often as the other conditions 
of the production met) from the very beginning of our 
experience." 

Again, " The permanent Causes are not always ob- 
jects. They are sometimes events, that is to say, peri- 
odical cycles of events, that being the only mode in 
which events can possess the property of permanence. 
Not only, for instance, is the earth itself a permanent 



40 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

Cause, but the earth's rotation is so too. It is a 
Cause which has produced from the earliest period 
(by the aid of other necessary conditions) the succes- 
sion of day and night, while, as we can assign no 
Cause for the rotation itself, it is entitled to be ranked 
as a primeval Cause." These quotations, I think, 
give your idea of permanent Causes, embracing in it 
the fixed material existences " of which nature is 
made up," and also flowing events — all the phenom- 
ena, at least all of the time being. 

The flowing events are, in fact, always connected 
with what I have stated to be the only Causes of 
which we have any idea — the exercise of a sufficient 
power in the effort of an intelligent being ; or in the 
movement of matter, either as put in motion by such 
being, or as a coexisting and coordinate activity. 
A case you mention — that of the rotation of the 
earth — is (as I believe all conceivable cases of mate- 
rial Causation will be found to be) embraced in one 
of the forms of the latter category. 

As appears from a former quotation, you hold that 
all Causes are only phenomena, and you make no dis- 
tinction between the phenomena which constitute the 
Cause and those which constitute the effects. The 
former differ from the latter, or consequents, to the 
extent, and only to the extent, of the change effected. 
The Cause is not in the consequent, for this would 
make it the Cause of its own existence, and imply 
that it acted upon the past or before itself existed, 
and hence the Causal Force of mere phenomena, if 
any, must inhere in the antecedents alone. But among 
those antecedents you also recognize no real distinc- 
tion between the things changed and that which 
changes them. You say, "The distinction between 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 41 

agent and patient is merely verbal. Patients are al- 
ways agents ... all the positive conditions of the phe- 
nomena are alike agents, alike active." ^ In a case 
you mention, it is consistent with your notions of 
'' permanent Causes," and that all the antecedent con- 
ditions are Causes, to say that sulphur, charcoal, and 
nitre are the Cause of gunpowder. The only things 
raised by this statement are the elements, first uncom- 
bined, and then combined, leaving out of view the 
object of inquiry, which is to ascertain the agency or 
Cause of the change of the separate elements into gun- 
powder. 

In these views Sir William Hamilton seems to 
agree with you. He says, '' Water is as much the 
Cause of evaporation as heat. But heat and water to- 
gether are the Causes of the evaporation. Nay, there 
is a third Cause, which we have forgotten — the at- 
mosphere." ^ Here he has predicated Cause of 
change to the water which resists the change, and also, 
though perhaps unintentionally, to that which hinders, 
— to the atmosphere, — the fact being that evapora- 
tion is produced with greater facility in vacuum. I 
shall presently attempt to prove that nothing, after it 
has become a permanent or fixed existence, can pos- 
sibly be a Cause of any change whatever. 

As germane to these views, you say, " The Cause 
of the stone's falling is its being within the sphere of 
the earth's attraction." It would obviously be equally 
proper to say, the Cause of the apple's being plucked 
was its being within my reach; but it might have 
been within my reach for all time, and not have been 
plucked. The fact that it is within reach has no power, 
no tendency to pluck, but is only a condition to a suc- 

1 MilPs Logic, Book III. Chap. VII. 4. 2 jrj/^. 5 40. 



42 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

cessful effort to that end. In this case, we can refer 
the effect to a known causal power — to effort. In 
the case of the falling stone we cannot, and therefore 
content ourselves with merely classifying it, with other 
like cases, under the term gravitation. We refer the 
case of plucking the apple to Cause by effort, and at- 
tempts have been made to reduce the phenomena of 
gravitation to the only other activity or conceivable 
active power — matter in motion. To one or other 
of these as causal power we always seek to trace any 
change. 

You have also some expressions which imply that 
the whole past must be regarded as the causal an- 
tecedent of each phenomenon as it occurs. For in- 
stance, " The whole of the present facts are the 
infallible results of all past facts^ and more imme- 
diately of all the facts which existed at the moment 
previous.^ The real cause is the whole of these ante- 
cedents." You seem to make some exceptions to this, 
e. ^., when you say, '' If the sun ceased to rise . . . 
night might be eternal. On the other hand, if the 
sun is above the horizon, his light not extinct, and no 
opaque body between us and him, we believe firmly that 
. . . this combination of antecedents will be followed 
by the consequent day ; . . . and that, if the same 
combination had always existed, it would always have 
been day, quite independently of night as a previous 
condition. Therefore it is that we do not call night 
the Cause, and therefore the condition, of day." ^ It 
must not be forgotten that it is not the continued 
existence of the day, but its beginning to be, that 

1 MiWs Logic, Book III. Chap. VII. § 1 ; Ibid. Book III. Chap. 
I. §3. 

2 MiWs Logic, Book III. Chap. V. § 4. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 43 

requires to be accounted for by a causal antecedent. 
That which ah^eady exists will continue to exist if 
there is no Cause of change. The postulate of the 
necessitarian argument from Cause and effect, as you 
state it, is this : "It is a universal truth that every- 
thing which has a beginning has a Cause." What we 
really seek, in this case, is the Cause of the change 
from night to day, and to this change night is a neces- 
sary antecedent or condition. Hence, in your view, 
and that of Sir William Hamilton also, night is a 
Cause of day, and the exception seems not to be well 
taken. 

To the postulate, or to your statement of it, as just 
quoted, I do not know that there is any dissent ; but, 
in your view of Cause, does it amount to anything 
more than an assertion of the truism, that everything 
the existence of which does not date so far back as 
something else does, i, 6., as far back as that which has 
no beginning, had something before it — had antece- 
dents ? The element of power to produce the change 
involved in a heginning is still lacking. 

I have already not only admitted, but offered proof, 
that if there are any unintelligent Causes, their action 
must of necessity be uniform ; and as you assert this 
of all Causes, we agree in this as to those which are 
unintelligent, and this leaves no room, as between us, 
to question the application to them of the rule, that 
the same Causes of necessity produce the same effects, 
which is thus involved in Causation by material or 
other unintelligent forces.^ 

Now, if the wdiole aggregate antecedents are the 
Cause of any effect, then, as at each instant, the 
whole antecedents are the same at every point of 
^ See page 253, Letter on Causation. 



44 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

space, the effects should be everywhere the same. To 
this it may be plausibly replied, that, the conditions 
acted upon being different at different places, differ- 
ent results may follow from the action of the same 
Cause. 

In the first place, however, it must be borne in 
mind that, as these various conditions must exist be- 
fore they can be acted upon, they must themselves, in 
the view we are now considering, be a part of the 
antecedents which make up the Cause. You explic- 
itly assert that all the conditions are included in the 
Cause. The whole past being thus combined in one 
Cause, acting upon a perfectly blank and void, and 
therefore homogeneous, future, the effect would be the 
same throughout the whole length and breadth of its 
action. Again, admitting that the same causes, act- 
ing upon different conditions, may produce different 
effects, it can hardly be asserted by the advocates of 
the rule that the same causes necessarily produce the 
same effects, that the action of the same cause can it- 
self be different ; for then this different action upon 
the same conditions would produce different effects, 
thus disproving the rule. Now, the whole past, being 
embodied in one Cause, must have one certain specific 
action, and that action either (being sufficient) pro- 
duces an effect, or (being insufficient) produces no 
effect. If it produces an effect, then this effect is 
added to the aggregate events of the past, so far 
changing the aggregate Cause ; and a past Cause, 
which has once acted, never can again act as the same 
Cause, for this additional effect or event must ever 
remain a part of the whole past ; and hence there can 
be no practical application of the rule, that the same 
causes of necessity produce the same effect, and on 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 45 

tlie other hand, if the action of this one aggregate 
Cause (being insufficient) produces no effect, then, as 
there can be no change in the Cause (and none in the 
conditions upon which it acted), the Cause would, of 
course, remain the same Cause, and its action being 
the same, and upon the same conditions, the result 
must be the same, that is, no effect^ and there would 
be an end of all change, and everything would remain 
quiescent in the state in which this insufficiency of 
Cause found it. 

If it now be said that the failure of this cause to 
produce any effect by its action is such a new event or 
condition that it can, as a consequence of it, act in 
some other manner, then, there being no change ex- 
ternal to it, and nothing to change itself except the 
negative fact of non-effect, which can have no influ- 
ence upon anything not cognizant of it, it follows that 
the Cause must be intelligent, and, as such, capable 
of devising or selecting some new mode of action 
which will avoid the deficiency of that before tried, 
and found to be ineffective. The Cause already em- 
bracing the whole past, nothing could be added to it 
from what already existed ; being ineffective, no new 
existence has been added to it ; and if, under these 
conditions, it changes its action, it must be self -direct- 
ing, accommodating its action to circumstances which 
must be known to itself as a prerequisite to such 
accommodation. It must be intelligent Cause. 

The whole of the prior state never can occur again, 
for the present is already added to it, and if, like a 
circulating series of decimals, the consequent of this 
whole past should be to reproduce and continually 
repeat the same series ; and even though the obser- 
vation of this uniformity, in the successive order of 



46 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

events, should enable us to predict the whole future, 
still it would not prove that the producing power was 
in the past circumstances. It would only prove the 
uniformity upon which the prediction was founded, 
and not the cause of that uniformity which still might 
be the uniform action of some intelligent active agent, 
who, perceiving some reason for adhering to this 
order, and having the present power, continually re- 
peated it. Much less could it prove that power not 
free. The mere observed order of succession, uniform 
or otherwise, would not include a knowledge of the 
power that produced this uniformity, nor the manner 
of its doing it. To find this we should need to com- 
pare the effects with those of some known power in 
action, as those of intelligent effort or of matter in 
motion. Nor would this supposed dependence of the 
present on the past be a case of the same causes pro- 
ducing the same effects ; for at each repetition of the 
effect the whole prior state^ which is assumed to be the 
Cause, is different, the effect of each " prior state " 
acting as Cause being continually added, and if there 
comes a time when there is no effect, then there never 
can be any further effect or change, for there can then 
be no difference in this " prior state " or Cause, and 
of course no variation in the consequent — no effect. 

And if, as you say, '^ in the general uniformity . . . 
this collective order is made up of particular sequences 
obtaining invariably among the separate parts," then 
the foregoing positions apply to each of these separate 
parts or longitudinal sections of the whole. 

Your position, that in this " invariable order of suc- 
cession," as in '' the general uniformity of the course 
of nature, this web is composed of separate fibres, this 
collective order is made up of particular sequences 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 47 

obtaining invariably among these separate parts," 
avoids some of the difficulties which arise from em- 
bracing the whole past in one Cause producing one 
sequent aggregate effect. In this view, however, 
there would still be no room for the application of the 
rule of uniformity in Causation ; for if any one of 
these causal fibres becomes insufficient, it could, un- 
der this rule, only repeat its insufficient action until 
the conditions of its action were so changed by the 
other fibres as to give it efficiency ; and then you hold 
that these changed conditions make a portion of the 
Cause, which, of course, is not then the same Cause 
which before acted, and with regard to those fibres 
which do produce effects, their effects being immedi- 
ately added to their past Causes, they never can again 
act as the same Cause. 

The division of the invariable order of succession 
into separate fibres, with the law that the same causes 
must produce the same effects, necessitates the hypoth- 
esis of a plurality of Causes from the origin of exist- 
ence ; for no difference in the conditions of such 
fibres could begin to be till there was a difference in 
the producing or causative agencies. Or if it be said 
that in the beginning there was a difference in the 
conditions of these fibres, then, under your view, the 
conditions being themselves Cause, a plurality of 
Causes must have always existed. If a theory of the 
universe can be worked out at all upon this plan, it 
seems to me it would still not only violate the law of 
parsimony, but in view of the unity everywhere man- 
ifested would, in point of simplicity, compare as un- 
favorably with that which attributes all original Cau- 
sative power to one intelligent being with a want for 
change or variety, or for the exercise of its powers, 



48 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

and which can design new efforts for new objects, as 
that of Ptolemy or Tycho Brahe does with the Co- 
pernican system. 

The fact that the Causative powers of the former 
plan also are unintelligent, shows a retrograde move- 
ment in ideas, carrying us farther back than the my- 
thology of the Greeks, or the rude notions of our In- 
dian tribes, and landing us substantially in Fetichism. 
Though the time is past in which mere power was 
deemed the proper object of worship, still, if we be- 
lieved that all the beneficent and aesthetic conditions 
of existence were caused by material phenomena and 
events, we could hardly fail, as rational and emotional 
beings, to adore them. 

By " the existences of which nature is made up," 
I understand you to mean those of the material na- 
ture, or universe, as you mention these, and these 
only. Matter is most prominently distinguished from 
spirit in being unintelligent ; a consequence of which, 
as already shown, is an inability to direct its own 
movements ; and as all movement must have some 
direction, it cannot move itself. It cannot itself be 
the moving power and yet something else give direc- 
tion to the motion ; and hence, as all changes in mat- 
ter are through the medium of motion in it, matter in 
a fixed condition, L e. in a state of rest, cannot of it- 
self become Cause. It must first be put in motion, or 
be acted upon, by something else, either by spirit 
power, or by some matter already in motion. But in 
regard to all existences, events, and circumstances, 
which are unintelligent and not self-active, or any 
combination of them which have assumed a fixed 
existence, whether for a longer or shorter time, they 
cannot of themselves be the cause of any subsequent 
change. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 49 

In " Freedom of Mind," etc., I have essayed a de- 
monstration that nothing, merely in virtue of its exist- 
ence, can be a Cause, and I would now more especially 
urge, that if any fixed material and inactive things 
can be the actual Cause of change, then, as before 
shown, such change, or effect, must be of necessity, 
and must also be simultaneous with, the first existence 
of such Causative Power. For existence being its 
only element of Cause, it must have been Cause at 
the instant it began to exist. It must then have been 
as a sufficient power in action, and of course have im- 
mediately produced its necessary effect. 

But the change to be wrought is in these very exist- 
ences, or antecedents, to convert them into the conse- 
quents ; and as this change must thus be of necessity 
and simultaneous with the existence of these antece- 
dents, such existence cannot become fixed for any time 
whatever. Having in themselves a power of self- 
change, with no faculty of self-control, or of selecting 
time or object, this power must produce its necessary 
effect at the moment of coming into existence, and the 
antecedents in which it both inheres and acts would be 
metamorphosed into the consequents in the very act of 
coming into existence, and hence phenomena with such 
inhering Causative power never could become fixed or 
permanent existence, and, conversely, there could be 
no such fixed or permanent Causal existence. This is 
very generally recognized. As soon as we find that 
night can for a time exist without producing day, we 
perceive that it cannot be the cause of day. 

The Cause, then, must be something distinct from 
the fixed phenomena, which constitute the antecedents 
to be changed. It cannot, under your view, be said 
that this Cause is some new phenomenon, the existence 



50 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

of which, being added to the previous sum of the 
conditions, instantaneously converts them into the con- 
sequent ; for any new phenomenon is itself the conse- 
quent which, in this same view, the former fixed an- 
tecedents must have caused ; and, as already shown, 
they cannot be the cause of any new existence or phe- 
nomenon. 

The fixed or stable events being excluded from 
Causation, what is left ? Nothing in the whole range 
of our knowledge, but activity in one or the other of 
its two and only forms — mind in action, and matter 
in motion ; the latter either as a consequence of the 
former, or as an independent coordinate force. Either 
of these may act upon and change the existing condi- 
tions as nothing else can. 

Imagine ever so many fixed conditions or phenom- 
ena, — they cannot change themselves. The founda- 
tion, the brick, and the mortar may all exist in conven- 
ient proximity, but the wall will not build or be built 
upward, till some activity in the form of an intelli- 
gent agent, or of matter in motion, and properly di- 
rected, is brought to bear upon them. 

If darkness is the only condition or antecedent, it 
cannot change itself to light, or so vary its own position 
that the sun will change it. When to this condition 
of darkness you add the rotation of the earth as a cause 
of sunrise, you bring In one of the two elements to which 
alone we attach the Idea of power, and it is the con- 
founding of the non-causal phenomena with the causal 
that I protest against, as leading to confusion and er- 
roneous conclusions as to the nature and function of 
Cause. 

It may, in conformity to a common idea, or rather 
verbal formula, be suggested, that such permanent 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 51 

material existences act in conformity to certain laws, in 
virtue of which they may be fixed and passive for a 
time, and then themselves start into activity. 

But this government by law, in the most common 
use of the term, implies that the active agent conforms 
itself to the law, which assumes that such agent knows 
the law of its mode and manner of action, and the par- 
ticular time to act, as also that it has the power of self- 
action ; and all agree that such knowledge and power 
are not attributes of material phenomena, or of mere 
events and circumstances. 

The term law is also sometimes used to signify a 
classification of phenomena, and sometimes to indicate 
a mere uniformity of the relation of antecedents to 
consequents. The former has already been considered, 
and the latter will be, in its place. 

We come now to the third substitute, upon the 
first division of which — that there is no Causal power, 
etc. — I have already made some comments in this 
letter. In a former one (touching your review of 
Comte) I suggested that this notion of no cause was a 
result of the concentration of the thought of this age 
upon material science, the great object of which, and 
that which makes it conducive to our comfort, is to 
ascertain the order of succession in external phenom- 
ena. Hence the physicists have applied themselves al- 
most exclusively to the searching out of this order, and 
the convenient classification of the uniform results 
which they discovered. They have dealt with things 
and their changes. Thus circumscribed, they have 
been led, by repeated association, to regard the relation 
of uniformity in succession — a mere relation in time 
— as a relation of cause and effect, and those things 
which uniformly attend and those events which uni- 



62 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

formly precede an effect, and even the names by 
which the things, events, or effects are classified, as 
causes. Having done this, and then perceiving that 
there could be no power in these inactivities, and that 
they derived no benefit from such hypothetical assump- 
tion of power in them, they discarded them, and were 
left with no Causal power at all. 

Attributing Causal power to the observed uniformity 
must be regarded as natural, for it is common to every 
stage of empirical knowledge. The child will tell you 
that a stone falls down because there is nothing to 
hold it up ; and observing other cases of uniformity, 
he generalizes, and attributes them all to the nature of 
things^ or, learning something of scientific classifica- 
tion, ascribes the falling of the stone to gravitation as 
a cause. I would now remark, that, on the hypothesis 
that change may take place without any Causal power, 
all events would spring into existence spontaneously 
and contingently, without any of those relations in 
which intelligent beings perceive order and useful 
adaptation of one thing to another. On this hypothe- 
sis, if such beings could design orderly or beneficial 
arrangement, there could be no power to conform 
things to such design. Even the necessity of the 
effect produced by matter in motion, and of course its 
uniformity, depends upon the existence of some power 
which pertains to matter in motion — some force, with- 
out which the effect would not be necessary. The 
chances that the rising of the sun and the light of day 
should uniformly happen at the same moment, when 
there was no Causal power in the sun to produce the 
light of day, and none in the light of day to produce 
the rising of the sun, and no anterior Causal power 
producing both, would be wholly inappreciable, as 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 63 

against the general confusion which, in the absence of 
such power, would be indicated by the calculation of 
chances, and by our ability to conceive of such events 
in any and every order of succession, or of coexistence. 
As a design of intelligent being, there could be no 
" preestablished harmony " if that being had no power 
to conform events to his design. The courses or suc- 
cession of events which are harmoniously related are 
very limited, while those which are not so related are 
infinite, and in the absence of any controlling power, 
the chance that at any moment, and for one time, any 
such harmony would occur, is as one to infinity, and 
the probability that it should be incessantly repeated 
would be diminished in a compound ratio ; so that this 
harmony without design or power, even without the 
additional consideration that it occurs in a great num- 
ber and variety of cases, may be deemed impossible. 

There must, then, be some power producing the uni- 
formity, the existence of which, in the flow of events, 
all admit. To meet this necessity of the observed facts, 
the last hypothesis of our category seems to have been 
devised. It appears to fully cover the ground intended, 
for it asserts that the Cause inheres not in the events 
themselves, but in the invariability or uniformity of 
their succession. This is to say, the Cause is iu the 
very things it has produced, the existence of which is 
accounted for by this Causal hypothesis ; in short, that 
the Cause is in its own consequent. Under this hy- 
pothesis, if it be asked why one certain event succeeds 
another certain event, it must be replied, because it 
always does so ; i, e., it does so on the particular occa- 
sion, because it does so on all other like occasions. 
And if in any case the cause of this uniformity be 
asked for, as, for instance, w^hy the consequent B 



64 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

always succeeds the antecedent A, the answer must still 
be, because it always does so ; i. e., it always does so 
because it always does so ; or shorter, it does because 
it does. Nor will it help the matter to say it not only 
always has been, but we believe it always will be so. 
The generic names, of the phenomena are now super- 
seded by the phrase always does^ both traceable to the 
same observed fact of uniformity, and both really mak- 
ing the phenomena in a collective form the Causes of 
themselves individually, which again involves the idea 
that the collection existed before the individuals of 
which it is composed. 

The idea of Causative power is distinct from, 
and must precede, that of the uniformity of its action 
or its effect. The power which produces the effect may 
be wholly independent of any uniformity in its mani- 
festation. It is no less Cause the first time it acts, 
when no uniformity can have obtained, and would be 
no less Cause if it varied its action every time it acted. 
The two ideas are not only not identical, but are essen- 
tially distinct and different. 

From the conclusion which I reached, that the effect 
is simultaneous with the action of its cause, I have 
already suggested the corollary that our idea of Cause 
is independent of, and separable from, that of succes- 
sion ; and if I was correct in saying that the knowl- 
edge that we can (through motion of matter or other- 
wise) extend the effects of any action beyond the 
moment of exertion, is not essential to our idea of 
Power, or of Cause, we may from this also infer that 
succession is not a necessary element in our idea of 
power or of Cause ; and this position, if tenable, takes 
away the whole foundation of those definitions of 
Cause which rest upon the mere succession of conse- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING* 65 

quents to antecedents, invariable, inevitable, or other- 
wise. 

The idea of the exercise of power is perfect and 
complete in itself, even though, being insufficient, there 
is to it no succession, no consequence. So, also, the 
exercise of a sufficient power is perfect and complete 
in itself, even though we never should add to it the 
knowledge of the effect or consequent ; and admitting 
the succession, which is involved in your definition, it 
comes after the exertion of power, — after the Cause, 
— and makes no part of it. This idea of succession 
becomes associated with that of Cause, from the fact 
that it is the evidence that the exercise of power has 
been successful, hence, has been Cause in producing 
that succession. In short, the succession of conse- 
quents to antecedents does not really enter into our 
idea, either of Power or of Cause, but is only the evi- 
dence that Cause has existed — that there has been a 
sufficient exercise of power to produce the succession, 
which is the effect, and not the Cause which produced 
it ; but, as such effect, it merely indicates that a suffi- 
cient power to produce it has been exerted. To make 
the succession in any form the Cause of itself is vir- 
tually to ignore all power in bringing it to pass. If 
the Cause be in the antecedents, then, if the influence 
of motion in extending the effects of former antece- 
dents be excluded, the Causative antecedents must be 
self-active ; beginning activity in, and changing them- 
selves to, their consequents. This involves all the 
difficulties which necessitarians find in the self-active 
power of intelligent beings without having the rational 
grounds upon which this power is predicated of such 
beings. All theories of Causation, when traced to 
their foundation, must bring us to something which 



56 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

is already active, or that has in itself the ability to 
become so. 

In my system, Spirit-Cause — intelligent being act- 
ing as First Cause — can nowhere be dispensed with ; 
and hence in it must be deemed to have always ex- 
isted — to have had no beginning. If the ideal theory 
of the universe — a theory which, in its simplicity, so 
commends itself to the intellect, and in its grandeur 
and beauty so appeals to our affections — is rejected, 
then matter must also be regarded as a distinct entity, 
coeternal, in some form, with spirit ; and all else, 
being but changes in the original conditions of these 
two, has been subsequent to them, and, of course, had 
a beginning and antecedents ; and thus, in this mode, 
we again reach the conclusion that all power must in- 
here, or, at least, have once inhered, in these two things. 
In the original constitution of things, there was, 
consequently, no ground for predicating Causal power 
of events, or of anything which had a beginning, nor 
is there now any necessity for such predication. 

It may be thought to be idle to speculate on the 
primordial conditions of existence, from which we are 
removed by infinite time. But the element of time 
does not wholly shut us out from such inquiry. After 
we have gone back to a period from which no knowl- 
edge could in any way have been transmitted to us, it 
will make no difference how much farther back we go. 
With regard to all the previous eternity, we can only 
judge as to what was by what has since been. From 
secondary causes (or uniform modes of God's action 
now observable), the geologist seeks to trace the his- 
tory of the formation of the rocks of our globe through 
the mutations of a time which it overtasks the imagi- 
nation to compass ; as the astronomer, with a mightier 



CAUSATION AXD FREEDOM IN WILLING 67 

stretch of thought, reconstructs the universe, and un- 
folds the mysteries of creation in its various stages of 
development. 

And if for all this we rely upon mere observation for 
our facts, and trust that the forces which we now de- 
tect in such minute proportions in the laboratory were 
then magnificently active in the great laboratory of 
nature, that the principles which nov/ apply to the for- 
mation of a soap-bubble then applied to the formation 
of suns and satellites, may we not have as rational and 
as philosophic faith, that the only power which we now 
know that can begin change, and modify and direct 
the material forces in our own little sphere, was then 
also active throughout the realms of space — that intel- 
ligence, so limited in us, in a mightier form, sought, 
designed, and executed the symmetrical arrangement 
which so harmonizes with our own sentiment of beauty 
and love of order, with our aspirations for the sub- 
limely vast, and our admiration of the minutely perfect? 

If, for all this, we feel that from the mutations of 
time there may be some incertitude, we still know that 
beyond all this empiricism there are, in the serene em- 
pyrean of thought, more pervading truths which no 
remoteness of time or space can affect. We know that 
an eternity ago, not only were all the angles of a plane 
triangle equal to two right angles, but that power, 
truth, justice, goodness, in the abstract, were then the 
same as now ; and in regard to these and other ab- 
stract ideas, the intervention of time, even if the period 
be infinite, need make no difference to our specula- 
tions. 

If the succession of events, and their Causes, is ever 
so distinct, our interest in the study of this succession, 
as a separate object of knowledge, is not thereby 



58 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

diminished. Our interest in this remains nearly the 
same, even if we have no notion or theory of Causation 
whatever. As our power by effort is innately known, 
it most concerns us to learn on what occasions and to 
what ends to apply it, and our action being always to 
influence the future, it especially behooves us to know 
what that future will be, both if we do not and if we 
do put forth our efforts to modify it, that we may 
judge between making the effort and not making it. 
That by observation we have found that certain events 
uniformly succeed certain other events, is, then, a fact 
of great practical importance, enabling us to predict or 
conjecture with more or less of certainty the future 
course of events by which we are liable to be affected. 
But it is thus important only for the reason that we 
have power in ourselves to act upon the future, and 
make it different from what, without our efforts, this 
uniformity in the flow of events indicates that it 
would be. If we had no such Causal power, then this 
knowledge of the uniformity of the succession of cer- 
tain consequents to certain antecedents would be of no 
practical importance, and inductive science would rank 
among those which merely furnish a playground for 
the intellect, or gratify an idle curiosity. It may be 
said that we only add our efforts to the other antece- 
dents ; but if we really do this, and thus change the 
subsequent events, or the order of them, we act as 
Cause, modifying the effects of all Causes extrinsic to 
us, though the relation of consequents to the antece- 
dents, which embrace these efforts, is not less uniform 
than in other cases. Except in regard to instinctive 
actions, it is because of the uniformity in the effects of 
effort that we can know how to influence the future. 
This uniformity may arise from an occult connection. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 59 

making it a necessity ; but this does not affect the 
question of our freedom in making the effort. 

These questions of Causation, which seem to me to 
underlie those of Freedom, have taken so much more 
time and space than I expected, that I must, at least 
for the present, omit what, when I began to write, I 
intended to say upon the problems of the Will, and 
the differences in our views upon them. I hope, how- 
ever^ to resume that subject a few months hence, and 
then to be able to condense my thoughts better than, 
in the haste of a preparation for an unexpected jour- 
ney, I have been able to do in this epistle. But that you 
say, in a recent letter, you are about to prepare a third 
edition of your " Review of Sir William Hamilton," 
and to notice some objections to it, I should hardly 
have thought it fair to trouble you with my notes in 
so crude a form. 

Yours, very truly, 

E. G. Hazard. 

To J. Stuart Mill, Esq., M. P. 



APPENDIX, 



On receiving this letter, Mr. Mill hastily replied to some 
of the positions taken in it. I will now notice only one of 
his objections, and that for the purpose of correcting what 
appears to be a very common error in another department 
of thought. In respect to the others, I will wait that more 
mature examination of this and the subsequent letter which 
Mr. Mill has kindly promised. 

The correction alluded to appears in the following corre- 
spondence. I am glad to have my view confirmed by one 
whose authority will be so generally recognized as that of 
Professor Rood, and especially, as since these letters were 
written, some physicists have suggested that the point had 
been too long settled to be now disturbed. 

Peace Dale, R. I., February 5, 1867. 
My dear Sir: You may recollect that, in a letter 
(printed for private circulation) which I addressed to J. 
Stuart Mill upon the subject of our differences in regard to 
the " Freedom of Mind in Willing," involving our notions 
of " Causation," I essayed a demonstration, that an effect 
must be simultaneous with the action of its cause, and thence 
argued that succession did not enter into our idea of Cause, 
and that, therefore, the definitions of it given by him and 
many others, which make Cause only a uniform succession of 
consequents to antecedents, was invalid. To this point he 
replied : "" Then sunrise is not the cause of day, for the actual 
sunrise has taken place for some time without producing 
day, namely, the time necessary for a ray of light to travel 



{ 



APPENDIX, 61 

over the intervening distance." If this were true, it would 
not affect my position. This is obvious when we correct the 
expression, and say it is our reaching the light, and not the 
position of the sun (absolute or relative), which causes day. 
But, as I was about thus to reply, it occurred to me that 
this travelling of the light made no difference ; but that, so 
far as regarded it, the apparent and actual time of sunrise 
were the same. Mr. Mill said that, on this point, the phys- 
icists were all ao^ainst me. Several of them, with whom I 
have conferred, agreed with him as to the general belief. 
Some of them have argued the point, but in every case have 
finally yielded it. The problem may be thus presented : 

h ' 



Let be the sun, d the point on the earth's surface 
which has just reached the position at which the sun's light 
can reach it. It is now actual sunrise at a^, and a person, 
on reaching that point, will immediately see the sun by 
means of a ray of light which left it 8' before. As there is 
always a ray of light reaching from to a' (though a flow- 
ing one), it is as constant and instantaneous in its action at 
a' as if it were a rod of iron which each person came in con- 
tact with at that point. The sun is also seen in the direc- 
tion in which it really is (refraction and a slight aberration 
excluded) . The general impression seems to be, that we see 
it in the relative position to us which it occupied 8' before. 
This would be in the direction b Q, Several of those with 
whom I have mooted the point have so stated. Both these 
errors arise from considering the sun as moving around the 
earth, instead of the earth around its axis, and are the only 
cases which occur to me in which it makes any difference to 
the result whether the one or the other of those hypotheses 
is adopted. These views have no bearing upon the problem 
of the aberration of light, which, so far as it arises from the 
rotary motion of the earth, is almost inappreciable. 



62 APPENDIX. 

It seems a little remarkable that these errors, so purely- 
physical, should have been brought out in discussing a ques- 
tion so purely metaphysical as that of our " Freedom in 
Willing ; '' perhaps the very last in which people generally, 
and especially you physicists, would expect to find anything 
touching, or even approaching, daylight. 

Yours, very truly, R. G. Hazard. 

To Professor Ogden N. Rood, 

Columbia College, New York. 

Columbia College, 
New York, November 23, 1867. 

My dear Sir : After the reception of your letter con- 
cerning the erroneous idea entertained by many relative to 
the real time of sunrise and sunset, I made the experiment 
of putting the question, point blank, to a number of edu- 
cated, and even to some scientific, persons. 

At first they all, I believe, without exception, were dis- 
posed to answer that the sun's disk is perceived about 8' 
after it is really above the horizon ; and, conversely, that it 
remains visible for the same interval of time after it really 
has set. 

The instant, however, I presented the real facts of the 
case, so clearly set forth in your letter, naturally they all 
were at once convinced. 

In two or three text-books on astronomy into which I 
looked, it appeared that the point was not at all touched on. 

To your last remark, I think most physicists would reply, 
that, while they have no fear of metaphysics, as such, yet 
that individual metaphysicians are sometimes quite keen- 
sighted in discovering the unprotected joints of their " gross 
material " armor ! Very truly, 

Ogden N. Rood. 
Rowland G. Hazard, Esq. 
Peace Dale, R. I. 



LETTER II. 
FREEDOM OF MIND IN WILLING. 



After a long interruption, from causes to which 
I have occasionally alluded, I return to the considera- 
tion of your objections to my positions in " Freedom 
of Mind in Willing," etc. 

In a former letter, as preliminary to this, I discussed 
our notions of Causation, in the diversity of which I 
think many of the differences in our views upon the 
Will have their root. 

In coming, now, more proximately to consider these 
differences, I will re-state my definition of Freedom, 
to which I understand you to assent, namely : " Every- 
thing in moving or in acting, in motion or in action, 
must be directed and controlled in its motion or its 
action by itself, or by something other than itself ; and 
that of these two conditions of everything moving or 
acting, or in motion or action, the term freedom ap- 
plies to the former ; . . . hence, self-control is but an° 
other expression for the freedom of that which acts, 
or of the active agent." ^ I also understand you to 
agree with me that the faculty of Will is simply a fac- 
ulty or ability to make effort, and that an act of will 
or volition is the same as an effort.^ 

1 Freedom of Mind in Willing^ etc., Chap. IV. 

2 Ibid., Chap. VI. 



64 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

I would next notice your objections to the use of 
the term " necessity," which seems to me, also, to be 
unfortunate ; and I think the advocates of freedom 
have even more cause than their opponents to complain 
of its being used in the argument in various senses. 
^^ In your chapter on the " Freedom of the Will," you 
say, " necessity, ... in this application, signifies only 
invariability^ but in its common employment, compul- 
sion." 

Such common employment would seem to justify its 
use as the antithesis of freedom : compulsion and con- 
straint being the terms which are generally used as 
antagonistic to that self-control which, under my defi- 
nition, and as I believe in the popular apprehension, 
constitutes freedom. But neither invariability nor 
compulsion seem to me to express our ultimate idea of 
necessity, which, in its relation to action and to any 
succession or change, more properly indicates that 
which must be and cannot be otherwise. 

In the idea of necessity, as thus defined, invariability 
is not an element at all, but is only an inference from 
it, as that which must be and cannot be otherwise^ ad- 
mits of no variation. 

Neither does compulsion properly enter into this 
idea of necessity, but is associated with it, because, in 
some cases, and only in some, it is the occasion or the 
cause of the necessity, or that the event or thing must 
be and cannot be otherwise. We observe, then, that 
the idea of necessity, though distinct in itself, lies be- 
tween, and is associated with compulsion on the one 
hand as frequently its antecedent and cause, and on 
the other with invariability as its consequent. 

A term thus situated is liable, in use, to slide into 
and partake, sometimes on the one hand and sometimes 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 65 

on the other, of the meanings of the terms with which 
it is thus associated. 

In what I have deemed its proper signification, ne- 
cessity is not the antithesis of freedom. The addition 
of 2 to 2 will of necessity make 4, i, e., it must be so 
and cannot he otherioise ; but, as there is no tendency 
to make anything else, no compulsion or constraint is 
needed as a cause to insure the result, it will be with- 
out compulsion or constraint. It is so in its own na- 
ture, and no appliance of power is requisite to make it 
so ; nor could any such appliance of power make it 
otherwise. 

Again, free action is of necessity free, it must he so 
and cannot he otherioise ; and if such necessity is the 
antithesis of freedom, free action is not free. 

Still more obvious is it that necessity, when it '' signi- 
fies only invariability," is not the antithesis of freedom. 
Free action must be invariahly free, and if invariability 
is the antithesis of freedom, or excludes it, then free 
action cannot be free, and cannot be free for the rea- 
son that it invariably is free. 

Such propositions as the two just stated are advanced 
only a very short step beyond the truism, that what is, 
is ; but if we enlarge the sphere of our examination 
so as to take in the statement, that the volition is in- 
variably as the inclination of the willing agent, and 
still assume that invariability is the negation or dis- 
proof of freedom, then, the volition thus conformed to 
the inclination is not free. The fact of the invariabil- 
ity, in itself, affords no ground for such a conclusion, 
for the question still arises, Is the volition thus invari- 
ably conformed to the inclination by the agent willing, 
or by some agency without him? 

It is obvious that there may be invariability in free 



66 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

action, and, conversely, that there may be variability 
in coerced action. To say that free action may be just 
as variable, or just as invariable, as that which is co- 
erced, is only to assert that what has in itself power 
to act may vary its own action or movement as readily 
as it can vary the action or movement which it causes 
in anything else ; and this, in view of the fact that to 
vary its effects in the anything else it must first vary 
its own action, becomes self-evident. 

Hence, invariability does not of itself indicate either 
the existence or the non-existence of freedom. It is 
probably only by its association with the term neces- 
sity, and, through it, with the many cases in which ne- 
cessity and a consequent invariability are the result of 
compulsion, that invariability has come to be regarded 
as the antithesis of freedom. As already shown, it is 
only in cases in which compulsion is its cause that ne- 
cessity itself can be so regarded. 

Necessity, in such cases, presupposes the action of 
some power or force capable of compelling ; and unless 
the word necessity is thus used, there is no radical 
ground of dispute between some of us who contend for 
freedom, and some of the advocates for necessity. 
There can be no more argument between one who as- 
serts that the mind in willing is free, and another who 
asserts that its action is in some respects invariable, 
than between one who says that a lemon is sour, and 
another who merely says it is yellow. In further illus- 
tration of the latitude with which the term necessity is 
used, it may be noticed that whatever exists without 
the exercise of any power or cause is said to be neces- 
sary, as space ; and that which exists in virtue of the 
exercise of a sufficient power or cause, is also said to 
be necessary. That which any specified power cannot 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 67 

prevent, is said to be necessary as to it. This last, as 
applied to volition, must mean an effort of my own, 
which by my own effort I can not prevent, involving 
two counter efforts at the same time. 

I may have occasion further to comment upon these 
and some other ambiguous terms, when I come to their 
application in the argument ; and even if it should ap- 
pear that the differences in the views of the contes- 
tants of this question of freedom in willing are often 
rather in the definitions than in the facts or inferences 
from them, still, to ascertain that this is so, and to 
reconcile such differences of nomenclature, are objects 
well worthy our attention. 

But some real and important problems remain to 
be elucidated or settled. Prominent among these are 
the questions. Is intelligent effort a beginning of the 
exercise of power, or is it a product or effect of some 
previously exerted power ? And closely allied to this, 
the further question. Is the being that wills an indepen- 
dent power in the universe, which of itself performs a 
part in producing change, thereby contributing to the 
creation of the future, and making it different from 
what, but for this independent exercise of its power, it 
would have been ; or is its action by will — its effort 

— really only an instrumentality through which the 
action of some extrinsic power or force, existing among 
the past or present conditions, is transmitted and made 
effective in producing and determining the future ? 
My thought has led me to the affirmative of the al- 
ternatives first mentioned in each of these double ques- 
tions ; to the conclusions that every being that wills 
can begin action, and by effort produce such changes, 

— such events as its finite power is adequate to, — that 
to such effort no previous exercise of power is requisite, 



68 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

and that no events or extrinsic power or force can pro- 
duce or direct the volition or effort of any being, but 
that every being that wills is an independent power in 
the universe, in conformity to its own intelligent design 
or preconception, by its effort, freely doing its part in 
the creation of a future, which, when reached, is the 
composite result of the action of all such beings upon 
the previously existing passive conditions, and also upon 
that flow of events which other causes (if any such) 
may be producing : intelligent being, by effort, thus 
acting upon, and so changing, either the fixed things 
or the flowing events, that the future will be made 
different from what, but for its effort, it would have 
been. In other words, I hold that every intelligent 
effort (and we know of no other) is an exercise of orig- 
inating creative power ; that even the oyster, if it acts 
by will, is a co-worker with God, and with all other in- 
telligent agents, in creating the future^ which is always 
the object of effort. The oyster loants to produce some 
change in the future, and directs its effort to that end, 
in some mode to it known. Its knowledge may be 
limited even to a single mode, neither requiring nor 
admitting of intelligent choice as to the mode, and this 
limited knowledge of the mode may be innate, never 
having required any exercise of its own intelligence to 
discover it, and its action, consequently, be purely in- 
stinctive ; but having in itself the power of effort, the 
intelligence to perceive an object, and the knowledge 
(innate or acquired) to direct its effort to that object, 
it has all that is requisite to constitute a self-acting 
and self-directing agent. 

But while, in the final effort to change the present, 
or influence the future, every conative being acts thus 
independently of control by others, there is an inter- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 69 

dependence growing out o£ the exercise of this hidepen- 
dent power, by which each one varies the conditions 
upon which others are to act, and may, so far, induce 
a variation in that action ; or, to bring it under our 
general formula, each may thus, by his own effort, make 
the future action of others different from what it other- 
wise would have been ; the power of each to vary the 
future thus indirectly, extending to the free actions of 
other intelligent beings, as well as to passive things and 
flowing events. 

As every intelligent effort to change or convert the 
present into a future must be made with reference to 
the conditions to be changed, every change in the con- 
ditions tends to vary all effort. In merely opening its 
shells, an oyster changes the sum of the conditions to 
be acted upon, and may thus modify the action of all 
other beings, as a pebble dropped into the ocean tends 
to move every particle of its waters. Even the Su- 
preme Intelligence must be presumed to conform His 
action to the existing conditions, and as the oyster in 
opening its bivalves does thereby change the conditions, 
it may, in so doing, change the action even of Deity. 

We can likewise increase or vary the knowledge of 
others, and, to some extent, their wants also, and thus 
induce variations in their action, or cause it to be differ- 
ent from what it otherwise would have been. 

The power wdiich one may thus exert to influence 
the action of another, does not interfere with the free- 
dom of the action of the agent thus influenced. If he 
is influenced by changing the conditions to be acted 
upon, then the action, upon the changed conditions, may 
be as free as it could have been upon them before they 
were thus changed ; and that a being conforms its 
action to the existing conditions (or rather to its view 



70 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

of them), does not argue any want of freedom, but the 
contrary. In a game of chess, each player influences 
the moves of his opponent, who still moves freely. The 
move of one changes the conditions upon which the 
other is to act ; but, this done, the one exerts no con- 
trol upon the volition of the other, who now wills as 
freely, in view of the changed conditions, as he could 
have done had they not been changed. One has mere- 
ly presented different circumstances for the free action 
of the other. 

If a being should go on acting without reference to 
any changes in the conditions, as a steam-engine would 
go on pumping after all the water in the well or mine 
was exhausted, this would indicate that the intelligence 
— the mind — of the actor did not, and that some ex- 
trinsic power did, control its action. The question is 
not as to how the conditions came to be as they are, 
nor whether the action would have varied if the con- 
ditions had been different, but, being as they are, does 
the mind act freely upon them ? 

So, too, as to any changes which one may make in 
the knowledge and wants, or any of the characteristics 
or attributes of another being ; the question is not how 
it came to be such a being as it is, nor whether its 
action would have varied if its characteristics had 
been different ; but, before such a being as it is, does 
it now will freely ? 

In support of these views, I urge -^ that every being 
that wills has in itself a faculty of effort, wants which 
require effort for their gratification, and the knowledge 
to direct its effort with more or less wisdom to this end. 
To beings that cannot create from nothing, with this 
faculty of effort, the perception of an object in the 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing, etc. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 71 

future, and the knowledge of a means of attaining it, 
there must be present conditions to be acted upon and 
changed, to be converted into the desired future. 

I have also endeavored to show that every being, hav- 
ing in itself these attributes of will, want, and knowl- 
edge, has all the attributes essential to self-action, and 
may, from its own inherent faculty, act upon any ex- 
isting conditions, and direct its action by means of its 
own knowledge, independently of any extrinsic power 
or force, and hence, under my definition, in this ability 
to direct and control its ow^n action, may act freely. 

The ability to act freely does not, however, of neces- 
sity, imply that it does in fact act freely. Hence, I 
have further attempted to show that an act of will or 
effort must be free. 

That, it being impossible that anything which is in- 
ert and cannot act at all, should itself act by will, or 
act upon the mind, and cause it to will, or that what is 
unintelligent should always conform the volition of a 
being to that being's view, sometimes its mistaken view, 
of the mode of attaining its object, the will of the being 
cannot be moved or directed by that which is inert and 
unintelligent. 

Nor is there any conceivable mode in which one in- 
telligent active being can directly move or act the w ill 
of another ; and if any such moving or acting by an 
extrinsic being were in fact possible, then the willing 
— the effort — would also, in fact, be the effort of the 
extrinsic being. 

The idea, that one being may directly control the vo- 
lition of another, involves the assumption that the will 
is a distinct entity, which may be appropriated by any 
one strong enough to seize and wield it for the purpose 
of willing, whereas it is only the mind's faculty of mak- 



72 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ing effort or exerting power, and the willing is only the 
effort or immediate exercise of power — a state of the 
active being — and not a thing which has power, or 
which power can use as an implement, nor even a me- 
dium through which power may be transmitted. 

I have also, in this connection, urged that, as the 
being always conforms his action to his perception or 
knowledge of the means of attaining the object, the 
only indirect mode in which the willing of any being 
can be controlled is by so changing his knowledge, 
including his knowledge of those sensations and emo- 
tions which are elements of want, that, as a consequence 
of this change of knowledge, he comes to a different 
conclusion as to the object to be attained, or of the mode 
of attaining it, and wills differently, and that this in- 
direct control is predicated upon the assumption that 
the being that wills controls its own act of will ; other- 
wise there is no ground for presuming that the action 
will be conformed to its changed knowledge, or vary 
with it. Hence, as the willing of any being cannot 
be directly controlled by the action of extrinsic power 
or force upon it, nor yet indirectly influenced except 
through its own self-control, or freedom in action, it 
follows, that if it wills at all, its action in willing must 
not only be free, but that its effort is an independent 
exercise, and beginning of the exercise of its power, 
and not an effect of power previously exerted upon it. 

In the common acceptation, too, of the terms, and 
the ideas they represent, compelling or constraining 
the act of will by prior exercise of power or force, in- 
volves the contradiction of willing when we are unwill- 
ing or not willing. 

That you agree with me that mind does will — 
does by effort put forth power — producing effect, I 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 73 

infer from your saying " your view of what the mind 
has power to do seems to me quite just." You add, 
" But we differ on the question, how the mind is de- 
termined to do it," and in effect argue that volition is 
an effect which is controlled and made to be as it is by 
previous conditions. 

If the volition is regarded as a distinct entity, the 
freedom of which is in question, then the control which 
you assert would negative its freedom, for the condi- 
tions which precede a volition cannot be that volition 
itself, and, hence, such control would not be by itself, 
but by something not itself, and therefore such voli- 
tion would not be free, and upon this I presume we do 
not differ. 

But, if this control of its action or volition is by the 
active being itself, then, even though the volition be 
still regarded as a distinct entity, the control which en- 
slaves the volition, establishes the freedom of the being 
in willing, i. 6., its freedom in the use of this distinct 
entity as its instrument. To meet the issue, then, it is 
necessary to show, not only that the volition is con- 
trolled, but that it is controlled by some power other 
than the being that wills, for if by the being, its ac- 
tion is self-controlled, and consequently free. 

In this view, your agreeing with me as to "what 
the mind has power to do," must be taken with some 
limitation. I, holding that the mind has of and in it- 
self power to begin and direct its action in the absence 
of all other active power or force ; you, that it must 
be moved to act, and determined in its action, by some 
prior exercise of power or cause. In this relation, you 
sometimes, and perhaps always, use the term influence^ 
upon the vagueness of which I may hereafter have 
something to say, and will now only remark, that if it 



74 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

does not imply the exercise of any power or force, then 
it does not imply any compulsion or constraint upon 
the being in willing, and does not interfere with its 
freedom in willing. That which acts without compul- 
sion or constraint acts freely, and compulsion or con- 
straint implies the action of some power or force which 
is sufficient to compel or constrain. 

Your expression, " we differ on the question, how 
the mind is determined to do it," might be taken as 
meaning that, in your view, the mind's action is direct- 
ly determined for it, and not by it, or, it may mean that 
while the mind does determine its immediate act, it is 
determined to determine by the operation of prior cau- 
sative power or influence. 

I admit the position of Sir William Hamilton, as 
quoted and commended by you, that " it is of no conse- 
quence in the argument whether motives be said to de- 
termine a man to act, or to influence (that is to deter- 
mine) him to determine himself to act ;" and I would 
apply the same remark to anything else which is said 
to influence a being to act as well as to motive. I not 
only admit that it is of no consequence in the argument, 
but I am in doubt as to whether there is any real differ- 
ence in the two positions ; and whether saying that a 
being is himself determined to determine as to his act, 
is not exactly equivalent to saying a being is himself 
determined as to his act ; as to say, I know that I know, 
is no more than to say I know. 

In another aspect, there seems to be not merely a 
futility, but an incongruity in the addenda to the orig- 
inal idea. In the latter part of the expression, Hamil- 
ton asserts that the being determines himself to act. 
Hence, in that act, he is self-determined ; but can one 
whose determination is determined by something else 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. T5 

be self-determined? Is there not a contradiction, or 
at least an incompatibility of ideas, involved in the 
expression, "determined to determine himself." If, 
using other terms, it be said that the mind does con- 
trol its own effort, but in the exercise of this control is 
itself controlled by something else, the same difficulty 
remains. It is, perhaps, intended to exhibit the mind 
as placed in a position analogous to that of the ivory 
ball between the one from which it receives and that to 
which it communicates the impulse. The result would 
be the same if it were wholly left out. Under this 
view, the mind has the faculty of effort, but can exert 
it only when and as it is moved to do so by some other 
power, as a steam-engine (including in itself the ex- 
pansive steam confined in the boiler) has in itself 
the power to operate and to turn the millstone, which 
crushes the grain, provided some extrinsic power first 
changes the existing conditions, under which it is mo- 
tionless, by opening a valve, and letting the steam press 
or impinge upon the piston ; and the manner or direc- 
tion of its motion will depend upon the manner of the 
connection of the valve which is thus opened. The 
whole might be so contrived that the pouring of the 
grain into the hopper of the mill would, either by its 
motion in going in, or by its weight when in, move the 
valve, making an aggregate apparatus in which the 
movement to crush the grain would depend only upon 
the condition that there was grain in the hopper, ready 
to be crushed, or upon the change from its not being to 
its being thus ready. In this case, however, the power 
which moved the grain into the hopper is still, really, 
the power which, acting through intermediate instru- 
ments, moves the valve, and is a power extrinsic to the 
engine, acting independently of it. If the engine, in 



76 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

addition to power, had intelligence also, so that, when 
it perceived or hnew that there was grain in the hop- 
per, it could, without any other change of the existing 
conditions by other power or force, itself move its 
valves, and at its own pleasure produce the proper mo- 
tion to crush the grain, the whole combined apparatus, 
with its power of self-movement and intelligent exer- 
cise of that power for the purpose of accomplishing the 
end to which it was pleased to apply its powder, would 
then be free in its action. 

But at this point of intelligent action — at the very 
gist of the question — the analogy, like all possible 
analogies drawn from movements of unintelligent mat- 
ter, practically fails, and leaves the disputants to recur 
to and reason upon the actual facts of intelligent action 
to which there is no known similitude in the universe. 

The arguments which you adduce in support of 
such of your positions as mine conflict with, I think are 
all embraced under the following heads : — 

1. The argument from cause and effect, or the as- 
sertion that volition is itself an event which is a ne- 
cessary consequent of its antecedents, and hence really 
controlled and determined by the past events. 

2. The influence of the present external conditions, 
or of things and circumstances including the action of 
one conative intelligence upon another. 

3. Influence of internal phenomena, as the character, 
knowledge, disposition, inclination, desires, wants, and 
habits, which make up the attributes or conditions of 
the mind that wills. 

4. The argument from prescience, or the " possibility 
of prediction." 

Of these, the first three are more or less blended in 
each other, all of them assuming that the mind's acting 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 77 

is always but a consequence of some prior action upon 
it ; motive being predicated of external and also of 
internal conditions, its supposed controlling power is 
embraced in both the second and third. 

The fourth is a wholly distinct and very different 
argument, for it cannot be contended that prescience 
of a volition is in itself a power which compels or con- 
strains that volition to be ; but only that the possibility 
of predicting a volition proves, or at least indicates, its 
connection in some way with something already known 
in the past, present, or future. Either will suffice equal- 
ly well for this purpose. 

The argument upon these points should be based 
upon the phenomena and characteristics of voluntary 
action, to some of which I will now recur. 

The action of a being is by volition, or effort, which 
is always intended to make the future different from 
what it otherwise would be. This is the object and 
design, without which no intelligent being would make 
effort. Hence, effort can be predicated only of an 
active, intelligent being ; of a being that can act, and 
that has intention or design. 

An intelligent being will not make effort to do when 
it does not want to do, and hence want, in such being, 
is also a condition necessary to its effort. The effort 
itself may sometimes be the thing wanted, and, in such 
cases, the making of the effort is the thing to be done, 
is the ultimate object. 

Any being making effort to vary the future, must 
have some knowledge, or belief, or expectation as to 
what the future would be without such effort, and also 
as to what change in it will be wrought by his effort. 
For convenience, we will call the perception or expec- 
tation of any being of what the future will be, if un- 



78 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

influenced by his action, his primary expectation ; and 
that of what he supposes it will be made by his action, 
his secondary expectation. 

The expectation of future effect is the foundation of 
our action, but whether this expectation is or is not 
realized, in no way concerns our freedom in acting. 
That which will be in the future cannot change that 
which now is, or which has been. An unsuccessful 
effort is just as freely made as one that is successful. 
The expectation is merely knowledge more or less cer- 
tain, positive, or confided in, as to the states or condi- 
tions of things which will be in the future. 

If one knew that he were, himself, the only agent of 
change in the universe, and that everything else was 
passive and quiescent, he would know, with assured 
certainty, that in the absence of any exercise of his own 
power, the future would be the same as the present ; 
and his effort, if any, must be to change the existing 
conditions and make them different from what they are. 

If he know that there are other agents at work chang- 
ing the present into, and thus creating, the future, the 
problem becomes to him a far more complicated one. 
To ascertain what the future would be, is now the most 
important and difficult process in determining as to 
his own effort to vary it. He must have some expec- 
tation of what the future, if produced by the composite 
action of all other powers of change, will or will not be, 
or he can have no reason for putting forth his own ef- 
forts to make it different. He must, also, have a sec- 
ondary as well as a primary expectation, or he can have 
no ground of choice between them, and, hence, no suf- 
ficient knowledge to direct his action, nor any reason to 
act at all. 

There may be cases in which one, dissatisfied with 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 79 

the present condition of things, may act at random, on 
the presumption that any change must be for the bet- 
ter ; but, in such case, he expects some change from his 
own effort, which he does not rely upon others pro- 
ducing. 

The conditions of the hypothesis of a sole active 
agent of change relieves him from much difficulty in 
determining his primary expectation, but involves that 
of accounting for his changing from the passive to the 
active state when all other conditions are the same, and 
all passive. 

If universal passivity should once obtain ; if all ma- 
terial motion should cease, and all changes in thought, 
feeling, and perception be suspended, there would be 
an end of all change, including that from rest to effort, 
by which intelligent beings begin to influence the course 
of events, after having refrained from doing so ; for 
intelligent beings would not make effort except upon a 
perception of some desirable and sufficient object of ef- 
fort ; and, if the existing perception had not already 
proved to be a sufficient ground for action, it could 
not, without some change, become so, and all such 
change is excluded by the hypothesis. Hence, if a 
universal passivity once obtained, there would be no 
conceivable way out of it into activity or change again ; 
all matter would be motionless, all spirit inactive, and 
satisfied with the existing conditions of universal re- 
pose. 

This is only a phase of the general case which I be- 
fore reached, that fixed existences, or fixed conditions 
of existence, cannot of themselves be cause of subse- 
quent change. 

This difficulty in conceiving an absolute beginning 
of activity is analogous to, if not identical with, that 



80 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

of conceiving an absolute beginning of existence. 
Both involve the idea of an absolute beginning of 
change, or a sudden starting of power into existence as 
a cause of that change, when there was no acting power 
or cause to produce change, nor any perceived reason 
for the exercise of any existing potential power, or for 
bringing power, or anything else, into existence.^ 

In the supposed case of a universal passivity, there 
might be beings with sensations and perceptions, with 
feeling and knowledge ; but, if these involved no want, 
there would be no effort for change till there was some 
change in them, and to produce this there is no exist- 
ing cause or power. 

It is, perhaps, conceivable that the continuous mo- 
notonous sensations and perceptions known by the mind 
to be such, might create a want for variety. Waving 
this last consideration, the perception of objects of ef- 
fort might arise either from a change in the conditions 
perceived, or a changed view of the same conditions or 
of their relations ; but, if all spirit causes were quies- 
cent, such change could only be effected by material 
movement. 

Admitting that matter in motion may be cause,^ wo 
have an apparent similarity in the formulas which ex- 
press the necessary conditions to the beginning of the 
motion of matter and the beginning of the action of 
mind, viz., that if all matter is quiescent, the action of 

^ May not this difficulty of supposing- a beginning- of power be the 
foundation, or the suggestive idea of Sir William Hamilton's doc- 
trine of Causation, in which every actual exercise or exhibition of power 
presumes the preexistence of an equivalent potential power ? If so, 
his theory merely postulates the existence of power from eternity, 
as one of the alternatives in the dilemma, of which an absolute begin- 
ning" of power is the other. 

'^ For the discussion of this point, see Freedom of Mind, etc., 
Chap. VIII. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 81 

intelligence is necessary to its motion, and if all spirit 
is quiescent, the movement of matter is necessary to 
its action. But, though at this initial point there is 
this apparent similarity, there is a wide difference in 
the actual phenomena in the two cases. The change, 
b}^ which matter, before quiescent, begins to move, must 
be a change by which power or force is directly applied 
to it, not only compelling movement, but the direction 
of the movement. The material change which, in the 
other supi3osed case, is essential to the action of mind, 
does not directly make nor compel the effort, but only 
so changes the conditions that the mind perceives a 
reason for itself making a voluntary effort, and, in this 
case, the mind must also determine what effort is 
adapted to the changed conditions, or rather to its 
changed view or knowledge of them. In doing this, 
the mind determines its action, conforming it to its 
changed knowledge of the existing conditions and the 
changes it desires in them. There is a further differ- 
ence, already suggested, and one which perhaps is 
sufficient to except mind from the necessity of any ex- 
ternal change to enable it to begin action. Mind can 
observe or know what is, and also remember what w^as, 
without effort ; and if an observed monotony is such a 
perception that the mind, by the mere lapse of time, 
misses the pleasurable excitement of variety, which it 
recollects to have experienced, and, hence, wants va- 
riety or change, this would be a sufficient ground for 
effort to an intelligent being which, previous to the 
universal passivity, had experienced variety, and if 
such knowledge of the pleasurable excitement of va- 
riety, or the want of variety, is innate, then there is in 
the constitution of the being — in its aggregate char- 
acteristics — a provision for a beginning of activity 



82 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

from wholly quiescent conditions, and it could begin 
effort to change this universal passivity. In like 
manner, if continued repose or quiescence leads to a 
want for activity, this would be a ground for action. 
In these cases, the mind could make effort for change, 
even though it expected in the one case only to grat- 
ify its want for change, without reference to the char- 
acter of the change, as in the other to gratify its want 
for activity, without reference to the value of the re- 
sults of its activity. 

No such constitutional element by which the mere 
fact of a continued monotony, or passivity of condi- 
tions, not at first sufficient to move, may become a 
ground, or occasion of movement or action, can be 
predicated of matter ; for such action, upon such 
ground, would constitute it a conative intelligence act- 
ing from its own perception of a reason for acting, and 
not moved or acted by another power or force. 

If, further to illustrate this difference in the genesis 
of material movement and of mental action, we sup- 
pose the first change from a monotonous passivity to 
be merely the advent of a quiescent material formation, 
it must remain quiescent. It cannot move itself, and 
there is no other movement or activity — no other 
power or force — to move it. But, if we suppose the 
first change from the monotonous passivity to be the 
advent of a conative intelligence, also in a passive state, 
and any supposed cause of such advent, and all other 
power or cause to immediately cease to be, then, in his 
passive perceptions of the existing passive conditions, 
including his own feeling and desire or want, this 
conative intelligence may at once find objects of effort, 
and make effort to attain them, and with each change 
he effects in the passive conditions, new objects of ef- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 83 \ 

fort may arise. In such case, the newly created cona- 
tive intelligence is a sole power and cause of change, \ 

and of course cannot be dependent upon any other 
power or cause, but, in virtue of his inherent attributes, 
is, at his creation, and continues to be, a wholly inde- 
pendent power, acting in conformity to his own views, 
and to his own designs to create or vary the future. 

If we now suppose this sole causal power by his ef- 
fort to create, or bring into action, other causal power 
or force ; for instance, that he puts matter in motion 
which in turn produces other changes, this will vary 
the conditions upon which he acts, but does not inter- 
fere with his own inherent power of acting, nor with 
his freedom in the genetic exercise of this power. On 
the contrary, he may now suspend his own action, and 
resume it again whenever, in the changes effected by 
this other causal power or force, he perceives a reason 
for putting forth his own effort to influence the course 
of events. Even if he is unable to overcome, or in any 
degree to counteract this extrinsic power or force, he 
is no less free to make effort, and to begin to make it 
for this object, than he was to try to change the passive 
conditions which he found existing at his own creation. 
Nor can it make any difference whether this extrinsic 
power or force, which is thus varying the conditions 
upon which he acts, is intelligent or unintelligent, nor 
whether it was brought into existence by his own ef- 
forts or otherwise ; nor whether it has always existed, 
or has had a beginning. He is as free to act upon his 
knowledge of the actual conditions, including his im- 
mediate sensations or observation of what other pow- 
ers or forces have effected, and the preconceptions of 
their future effects, which he passively perceives, or by 
effort deduces from these present sensations, as he was 



84 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

when no other power or force existed, and he was act- 
ing only upon existing passive conditions. In both, 
and in all cases, he is free to act and to begin to act, 
whenever, either in fixed or flowing conditions, he per- 
ceives a reason for acting. 

He always acts to make the future different from 
what it otherwise would be, and directs his action by 
his knowledge of means to the result, which, on com- 
paring his primary w4th his secondary expectations, he 
chooses and desires. When he ceases to be a sole 
cause, he is more liable to be mistaken in his precon- 
ceptions of what the future will be, and to misapply 
his effort, and fail of effecting his objects ; but he is 
equally free to make the effoit ; equally free to try to 
do, and to conform his effort to do, to his own notions, 
whether they be true or false, wise or foolish. There 
may be cases in which, even in regard to extrinsic 
matters, we act as a sole cause. There may be passive 
conditions around us, among which we perceive that by 
effort we can effect desirable change ; but, even in such 
cases, we count upon the continuance of natural laws, 
or the uniformity of cause and effect, which, in my 
view, are only expressions for the uniform action of 
some other intelligent power or cause. This reliance 
upon the action of other causes to aid us in our efforts 
is not the same as a prior action of power causing us 
to make effort, or controlling the direction of the ef- 
fort, but is only one of the elements of our secondary 
expectations, and does not prevent our acting as an 
independent cause, nor even, in relation to the partic- 
ular effect we seek to produce, as a sole cause. 

If all within the sphere of one's action were quies- 
cent, he could still act, and the future effects, includ- 
ing the action of other causes and their influence upon 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 85 

these effects, would all primarily be the effects of his 
action. Even in these cases, then, in the preliminary 
examination to determine our own action, we look to 
the action of others as an important element. It, how- 
ever, oftener happens that we do not thus take the 
initiative, and make occasion for the action of other 
causes, but by our efforts seek to modify the effects of 
other causes, already active, rather than wholly to cre- 
ate the future. 

The hypothesis of a universal passivity is wholly 
foreign to our experience, and does not come into the 
practical question of our freedom of action in the 
actual conditions of our existence, in which we find 
that, even when one is wholly inert himself, changes 
are continually taking place around and about him, 
which vary the sensations and perceptions of which he 
is only a passive recipient, bringing to his notice ob- 
jects of effort ; that either by the constitutional con- 
tinuous movements in his own being, or by the action 
of some other extrinsic cause, hunger comes from ab- 
stinence, that even what in itself is agreeable becomes 
a wearying monotony, inducing a desire for variety, 
and that the wants of repose and of activity reciprocal- 
ly follow each other. These last two I have suggested 
may, perhaps, spring directly from the attributes of in- 
telligent being without its own effort, and without the 
action of any extrinsic power. 

Assuming, now, that to each individual there is with- 
out him a certain flow or current of events, produced 
by other causes than himself (material or spiritual, or 
both), we come to the question, has he an independent 
power or faculty of effort by which he can of himself 
begin action, and thereby so influence this current of 
events as to make the future different from what, but 



86 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

for its efforts, it wovild be ? If he has such power, and 
in the exercise of it is free from external compulsion 
and control, — if this current of events does not deter- 
mine, but he himself determines his effort, by conform- 
ing it to his own view of what, under the existing con- 
ditions, suits him best, — then, under my definition of 
Freedom, he is a free agent, in his finite sphere, and to 
the extent of his finite power as freely doing his part 
in creating a future, as God, in His sphere, and in the 
exercise of His power, is in doing His part of the same 
work of creating that future, the creation of which is 
the composite result of the efforts of every being that 
wills. 

This question of freedom in willing, however, does 
not involve that of our actual power to do, for we may 
be free to make effort, i, e., to try to do what, from 
deficient ability, we may not succeed in doing. This 
freedom in making the effort, or in trying to do, is the 
question at issue, and is wholly distinct from that of 
our power to do what we attempt. 

The speculations in which I have indulged upon 
the hypotheses of a sole cause, and a universal passivi- 
ty, however foreign to our own actual experience, I 
trust, have thrown some light upon the more practical 
question of the ability of each individual to begin 
action when, though himself quiescent, he is the per- 
cipient of changes effected by other causes. 

The question as to the mind's ability to begin action 
covers the same ground as the first of the four argu- 
ments, or categories, on page 76, involving the asserted 
influence of the past and its causal influences, which 
again involve that of the uniformity of cause and effect. 

The necessitarian argument, on this ground, assumes 
that the mind must be acted upon by something before 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 87 

it can itself act, and then finds this something in a 
causative ag^ency of the past, which it generally desig- 
nates as a motive. 

This argument, in various forms, is applied to all of 
the four categories, and the different phases in which 
it appears will be most conveniently treated as they 
arise in the discussion of each of them. 

We may, however, observe, generally, that the past 
is always that which has already been changed into the 
present, and having now no actual existence, cannot, 
of itself, be a cause of anything in the present. We 
remember it as that which has been, but it no more 
exists in the present than does the future, of which we 
have a prophetic conception. That our knowledge of 
the one is more certain, more reliable, or more perfect 
than of the other, does not give it extrinsic causative 
power. Knowledge, however perfect, is not itself 
knowing or active, nor does it confer the power of ac- 
tivity upon that which is known. It may be said that 
the past is not necessarily changed in the present, but 
may flow into its future without any change. In this 
case, the past has not produced the only effect of its 
causative power which can possibly be attributed to it, 
that of changing itself into its future, for the only ef- 
fect of the action of any cause is to make the future 
different from what it would have been, and the mo- 
ment it flowed into its future, without change, it would 
become a fixed existence, which, as before shown, 
would then of itself have no power to produce subse- 
quent change, and, of course, could not change any- 
thing or any being from passive to an active condi- 
tion ; could not impart motion to matter, or volition to 
intelligence. It would only be a subject to be acted 
upon, and not a thing that could act. 



88 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

It may be said that though no effect was produced 
by these causative powers of the past, they did exist, 
but that they exactly neutralized each other, and hence 
no change was effected by them. Still this no-effect 
must continue, unless some new power is added — some 
agency — which, like that of intelligence, having a 
want for variety, can, on perceiving this universal pas- 
sivity, put forth power, and begin change, without be- 
ing first acted upon by any other activity or power. 
By the hypothesis there is no such other activity, and 
if there is nothing to which passive conditions, as want 
and knowledge, furnish a ground for action, no action 
can ever be. If the past has already applied its cau- 
sative power to change itself in passing to its future, 
and failed, then, the conditions being all the same, it 
can never succeed in doing this, but must forever re- 
main in this condition of unsuccessful appliance with- 
out any effect or change. There are only two conceiv- 
able modes in which the effects of the exercise of any 
causative powers in the past can be extended to the 
present. One of these is by putting matter in motion 
by which those past causes may have developed a self- 
continuing power, which will extend the effects of their 
own action in time.^ The other is through the action 
of some intelligent being, which has either the ability 
to continue its own action from the past to the present, 
or to begin new action in view of the fixed results of 
past causative agencies, and to adapt its action to these 
results, which now constitute the conditions to be acted 
upon ; but it is obvious that no motion could be im- 
parted to matter from a past in which everything had, 
even for an instant, become quiescent, and if, at the 

^ On the question of the possibility of such causes, see Freedom of 
Mind in Willing^ Book I. Chap. VIII. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 89 

moment of such quiescence taking place, the existing 
conditions did not present a reason for effort, they 
could not, while continuing the same, present any such 
reason to any intelligent being in which also no change 
had taken place 

Of these modes of continuing the influence of cau- 
sative power, it may be remarked, on the first of them, 
that any effect in the present is the result of the pres- 
ent action or impact of the moving body, and not of its 
past motion ; and of the second, that it is not the past 
existence of the intelligent being with his attributes, 
but his present effort that produces the effect. As 
heretofore shown, the effect must result from causes 
in action at the time it occurs, and not from prior ac- 
tion.i There are also two conceivable modes in which 
the causative agencies of the past may effect the pres- 
ent action of the powers of the past thus continued in- 
to the present. The one by the state to which the past 
has brought the conditions to be acted upon, and the 
other by the characteristics it may have imparted to 
the powers which are to act upon these conditions ; for 
instance, the direction which it may have given to any 
matter in motion, and the changes it may have made 
or left unmade, in the character of any intelligent 
being. 

The action of these powers or forces, intelligent and 
unintelligent, must be affected by their relations to 
the conditions which the past has entailed on the pres- 
ent. Though the past agency, which put a body in 
motion, may have no present control of its movement 
and effect, still the effect of that movement may depend 
upon certain material being in the line of its move- 
ment, so that it will come in collision with it, and the 

^ Letter on Causation^ page 25. 



90 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

position of such material, or that it is in the line of 
the body's movement, may have been determined in 
the past. 

But the consideration of the influence of all the ex- 
trinsic conditions upon the mind's freedom in willing 
belongs under our second, and that of any changes in 
the intrinsic conditions of the being by the past, under 
our third category or head ; and this last especially so, 
as we are only thus influenced by the past through our 
memory^ which is a form of our knowledge. That 
habit forms no exception to this, I think, is shown by 
my analysis of it in '^ Freedom of Mind," etc.. Book I. 
Chap. XI. 

In the first category, the controlling influence of the 
past is put forth in the argument from cause and 
effect, or that for every event or thing which begins to 
be, there must be a prior cause for such beginning, 
upon which it is dependent for its beginning to be 
and for its being as it is, and not otherwise, and, hence, 
volition, being an event or thing which begins to be, 
is dependent upon a prior cause, which, under the ad- 
mission that the same causes must produce the same 
effects, of necessity causes it to be and to be as it is, 
and not otherwise. 

In regard to the dictum, " The same causes of ne- 
cessity produce the same effects," I have already stated 
my views pretty fuUy,^ and have also remarked that 
the very object of volition is always to interfere with 
and change the uniform result which would otherwise 
recur ; and will now add that the determination of a 
volition, by any causative power in the past, is no less 
an interference with our freedom if its action be vari- 
able than if it be uniform. It is not, then, the uni- 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Book II. Chap. XI. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 91 

formity of the effects of the action of past causes which 
interferes, or indicates any such interference, with our 
freedom. Such uniformity, by association, induces 
the idea of necessity, though, as already intimated, by 
enabling us to anticipate, it, in fact, aids our own 
efforts to thwart or vary the results of causation in the 
past. 

As already suggested, if this argument from the 
necessary uniformity of cause and effect is applied to 
volition as a distinct impassive entity which begins to 
be, it proves that such entity is not free ; but, if it is 
applied to a mere state or condition of mind, it does 
not prove that the mind in such state is not free, or 
that mind, as itself a cause, may not change itself from 
the passive to the active state without any extrinsic 
appliance of power or cause to it. To avail anything, 
then, this argument from cause and effect must as- 
sume, not that effort itself, but that mind in its effort 
is controlled by the antecedents, and cannot itself be- 
gin action or inaugurate change. It is common to 
illustrate and enforce this argument for necessity by 
reference to the 'phenomena of matter in motion. Lit- 
tle aid should be expected from the comparison of 
phenomena so essentially different as material move- 
ment and intelligent effort, and there is much danger 
in transferring the observations and deductions which 
we may make in one of these fields of inquiry to the 
other. The difficulty of explaining the phenomena of 
mind in effort, by reference to the facts observed of 
matter in motion, is really not less than that of ex- 
plaining the motion of matter by reference to the phe- 
nomena of the mind's effort. Indeed, as motion is 
one of the direct results of effort, while effort can 
never be produced by motion, we might more logically 



£2 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

refer the material phenomena to the mental than the 
converse. Still, as a means of illustration, the phenom- 
ena of motion cannot well be dispensed with. Matter 
in motion may at least be conceived to be, and to most 
persons does in fact appear to be, a cause of change. 
In this one respect it resembles effort, to which there 
is no other known thing in the universe that has any 
similitude whatever. If, then, we would illustrate 
effort by analogy at all, we must admit the phenomena 
of motion as a means of doing it, and do the best we 
can to avoid sliding into the errors to which, in follow- 
ing such analogies, we are exposed. This resemblance, 
seeming or real, lies not at all in the things them- 
selves, nor in their modes or actings, but only in the 
one circumstance that both do produce effects. Still, 
from the close association, in the popular mind, of 
material causation by motion with intelligent causa- 
tion by effort, the ambiguities and the confusions aris- 
ing from the vague expressions common to such sub- 
jects, have been much increased by an indiscriminate 
application of the same terms to both of these forms 
of causation. The phrase, '' that which moves," has 
two very distinct meanings, sometimes indicating that 
which causes the motion, and sometimes that in which 
motion is caused, or that which is actually moving, 
without any reference to the cause of its moving. The 
horse is that which moves the carriage ; the carriage 
also is that which moves. In like manner, the phrase 
" that which acts," is applied to intelligent beings in 
the state of willing, and to matter in the state of mo- 
tion, and through this last application readily partakes 
of the ambiguity which attaches to the phrase " that 
which moves." We speak of the action of the mind 
in willing, and of the action of the muscles, meaning, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 93 

primarily, that the mind is itself active, and that the 
muscles are acted or moved by it. 

The phrase, '' that which acts," as compared with 
the phrase, "that which moves," is an approach to the 
idea of a self-active power, excluding* to some extent 
the idea of that in which action or motion is only 
caused. We may properly say that A moves a piece 
of lead, or a piece of lead is being moved by A ; but 
not that A acts a piece of lead, or that a piece of lead 
is being acted by A. That which moves may mean 
either the power which produces the motion or the 
passive thing which that power moves ; but that which 
acts is always the active agent or the actor. That 
ivhich moves (^. e.. the entity moving or in motion) 
may be wholly passive in moving ; that which acts 
(^. e., the entity acting) cannot be said to be passive. 
But action and motion are liable to be confounded. 
By using the word effort to indicate the mind's exer- 
cise of power, we avoid much of the confusion to 
which the word action, with its analogies and associ- 
ations, exposes us ; for though we sometimes use the 
phrases, " motion of matter," and " action of matter," 
as convertible, as also the phrases, "mind's action," 
and "mind's effort," thus applying the term action 
both to mental effort and material motion, we never 
(in this sense of the word) think or speak of the 
effort of matter. All effort is of the mind, which has 
no other mode of exerting its power. But, in the ex- 
ercise of this power, it has two very distinct objects : 
the one to produce change in the external world, the 
other to extend its own knowledge beyond the mere 
passive perceptions of phenomena. By effort, we 
draw inferences from present facts, anticipate the fu- 
ture, reproduce the past, or so arrange our ideas that 



94 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

new relations and new truths become apparent. To 
produce external change, we always begin with an 
effort to move the appropriate muscles of our own 
bodies ; this is the case even when we would change 
the knowledge, thought, or action, of our fellow-be- 
ings, for there is no known mode of communicating 
our thoughts to them, except through material 
changes, which we cause for that purpose. The case 
would be different if we sought to produce change in 
beings that could directly perceive our thoughts with- 
out the aid of such external manifestations. Prayer 
requires no material medium ; but as God is every- 
where, is within as well as without us, this hardly 
makes an exception ; and any intelligence, which is 
not so far within us as to have an immediate cognition 
of our thoughts, must learn our thoughts through ex- 
ternal changes. We may then say that, in all our 
efforts to change the external world, including the 
actual experiments by which we add to our knowl- 
edge of it, and the modes by which we impart our 
knowledge to others, we begin with an effort to move 
our muscles, while in attempting directly to increase 
our own knowledge, including that of the modes or 
means of producing changes, we often begin and end 
with an exercise of the mind's intrinsic power, without 
resorting to experiments in matter, and, hence, we 
use the phrases " muscular effort " and '' mental ef- 
fort," not to indicate efforts made by the muscles, and 
efforts made by the mind, but to generically distin- 
guish the objects of the mind's effort in each partic- 
ular case. We cannot distinguish these two classes 
of actions from each other by reference to the actor, 
for the actor is the same in both ; but we name them 
from the subjects of the action, muscular efforts al- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 95 

ways meaning efforts of the mind to change what is 
extrinsic to it, and mental efforts meaning efforts of 
the mind to change itself, i, e., to increase its own 
knowledge, there being no other mode in which it can 
effect change in itself. Still, this use of the phrase 
'' muscular effort " leads some persons to attribute 
original intrinsic power by effort to the muscles, lay- 
ing a foundation for a belief in material causation, 
and increasing the confusion in regard to power in 
matter which the use of the word action has occa- 
sioned. 

I trust that these remarks upon the use of the 
terms motion^ action^ and effort^ may, at least to some 
extent, prepare the way for the proper use of the 
phenomenon of matter in motion as an illustration 
of that of mind in action, and aid to make both the 
agreements and disagreements in them available for 
that purpose. I have already stated some of these, 
and noted that the analogy wholly fails at the very 
point which concerns the question of the mind's 
freedom in effort ; but, as such analogies may still 
be useful, and are, in fact, very generally used in 
the discussion, it may be well still further to trace 
them out, and note their bearing upon it. 

Spirit is the only thing which can make effort, or 
exert intrinsic power. Matter is the only thing that 
can be directly changed by power extrinsic to itself. 

Power to effect change by effort is a part of the 
constitution of intelligent, active beings ; the suscep- 
tibility to be changed by power is a part of the 
nature of things. The phenomena of spirit, as knowl- 
edge, perception, sensation, emotion, are only indi- 
rectly affected by extrinsic power, and cannot be 
directly acted upon by it. 



96 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Matter, in being moved by a force extrinsic to it, 
is wholly passive in its movement ; my hand, in being 
moved by a mental effort, is, in itself, as passive as 
when at rest. So, too, if my mind, in acting, were 
acted by something extrinsic to it, it would be as pas- 
sive in acting as when not acting. If the effort is 
produced or caused by power extrinsic to the agent, 
then the agent is passive, and does not act or make 
effort. Any expression of the idea that the effort is 
produced or caused by a power extrinsic to the being 
making it, involves the contradiction that the actor 
is not active, or that he is both active and passive at 
the same time. The idea not only necessitates this 
solecism in expression, but is contradictory in itself. 

That which produces motion in matter is the cause 
of the motion, and if matter 7noves itself, or produces 
motion in itself, it is self -moving. So, too, that which 
produces action is the cause of the action, and if a 
being acts itself, or produces action in itself, it is 
self -active. 

The action of mind is wholly in the mind's effort, 
and not in the antecedents or the consequents of its 
effort; and, hence, a being with a faculty of effort is 
self-active, needing only an occasion for action. 

So long as a substance is caused to move by some 
extrinsic power or force, it is but the passive subject 
of the action of that power or force, or a passive in- 
strument, or a medium, through which that power or 
force is transmitted and made effective in something 
else. It is not till the moving power or force ceases 
to control the movement of such substance, that it 
can itself become cause. If, after such power or force 
has ceased to produce, or to control the movement, 
this substance continues to move by some inherent 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 97 

quality or property in itself, then, in virtue of this in- 
herent attribute, it has power, and may be, in itself, a 
cause. In such case, the prior extrinsic exercise of 
power by which it was put in motion, has, from what 
was before inert and powerless, created or developed 
a moving power capable of acting independently of, 
and either in concurrence with, or in opposition to, the 
power which has thus produced it. So, too, the crea- 
tion of a being with a faculty of effort, wants to be 
gratified by effort, and the intelligence to put forth 
and direct its effort to their gratification is the crea- 
tion of a power or cause, which, in virtue of its own 
inherent attributes, is self -active, and can go on to 
produce effects wholly independent of the power 
which created it, or of any other power. The matter, 
though fully developed in existence, if at rest, requires 
extrinsic force to put it in motion ; but mind can it- 
self begin action, and change the direction or intent of 
its action whenever it perceives a reason for so doing. 
All the arguments against the freedom of the mind 
in willing, which are embraced under the first three 
heads, assert, or assume, that the mind must be acted 
upon before it can itself begin to act ; and this, to avail, 
must assert that it is acted upon by some extrinsic 
power, which is sufficient to produce the effect and 
cause the mind to act, and to act in the manner in 
which it does act ; for, if acted upon by some power 
which produced no such effect, its freedom could not 
thereby be interfered with, and for stronger reason, 
if it were conceivable that it could be acted upon by 
that which has no power at all, such action could in no 
way interfere with its freedom. I can see no reason 
for asserting that a volition is not free merely because 
it has had antecedents, uniform or otherwise, i. 6., be- 
cause something has been before it. 



98 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

In each of the three positions named, then, and es- 
pecially in the first, which relates to the influence of 
the past, and the application of the law of cause and 
effect, it is virtually asserted that the mind, m its act 
of willing, is caused to act, and to act in a particular 
manner, by the prior action of some causal power or 
force. 

Having noted what, in this connection, seem to me 
the more important of the resemblances and discrep- 
ancies between the phenomena of matter in motion 
and of mind in action, I will proceed to consider this 
question of the mind's being caused to act, and con- 
trolled in its action, as an effect of a prior exercise of 
power or force. And, on it, I would first remark, 
that we not only have no experience of any direct ap- 
plication of such power or force to the mind's act of 
will or effort, but that we cannot even conceive of any 
mode or manner in which such power or force could 
be applied to it ; but, on the contrary, our experience 
is, that from a state of inaction we can of ourselves 
begin action without any such power or force first act- 
ing upon us, and with no other essential antecedent 
than our perceptions of the present and expectations 
as to the future, both of which, being forms of knowl- 
edge, are passive in their nature.^ If these have been 
attained by prior effort, that effort has been exhausted 
in the effect, leaving the mind, so far as such effort is 
concerned, in a passive state with its increased knowl- 
edge of the present and future, which is all that it re- 
quires, and all that it uses, to itself determine as to its 
exercise of its own power of acting, and the manner 
of such exercise. 

^ Knowledge and our perceptions are always passive. See Freedom 
of Mind in Willing^ Book I. Chap. III. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 99 

I have already remarked that the ability of the mind 
to start from a fixed condition of universal passivity 
into action, is, at least, doubtful, and that such condi- 
tion being wholly foreign to our experience, the prob- 
lem is not practically important. 

The more practical question is, can the individual, 
himself passive in the midst of changing conditions, of 
himself put forth effort, and thus begin action. Upon 
the general question of one's power to begin action, it 
does not make any difference whether the conditions, 
which by effort he seeks to change, are fixed or are in 
process of change by the action of some other causal 
power (provided that in case all other conditions are 
fixed he has not passed into the fixed state him- 
self). In either case, he acts upon his expectation of 
the effect of his effort upon the future, and any change 
in his expectation by the action of other causes is, of 
course, a change in his knowledge, which will be con- 
sidered under its proper head. Assuming, then, that 
in actual life, other causes are continually producing 
changes around us, our experience is that we may be 
passive observers of the course of events — mere re- 
cipients of the changing sensations and emotions they 
produce — till we perceive ^ that they are tending to 
some undesirable result, or that by our own effort a 
more desirable result may be obtained, and then put 
forth our power by effort to prevent or to modify the 
result to which the action of extrinsic causes is tend- 
ing- 

This change from a passive to an active state is as 
much a matter of observation and experience as the 
changes in our sensations and emotions are, and the 
change from a state of non-effort to one of effort is as 

1 Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Book I. Chap. III. 



100 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

well attested, in both these modes, as the change from 
a state of not seeing to that of seeing, or from that of 
not feeling to that of feeling, and the beginning of an 
effort is as marked as the beginning of a sensation. 
The necessitarian argument from cause and effect itself 
asserts, as one of its essential links, that volitions do 
begin to be,, but, as this may only mean that different 
volitions constantly succeed one another, it does not 
necessarily assert that we are ever in that state of non- 
effort which is a prerequisite to a new beginning of 
effort^ though not to the beginning of a new effort,, 
and, admitting that every volition has a beginning, the 
necessitarian mio^ht still aro^ue that each one in succes- 
sion is a consequence of that which preceded it, the 
whole being an uninterrupted series, dependent upon 
the first term, or upon it and such extrinsic forces as 
might combine with it to vary the subsequent volition ; 
or, admitting the total suspension of action in the in- 
dividual, assert that his resumption or beginning anew 
was the result of some causative power in the past ; in 
either case making the whole destiny of the being de- 
pend upon the time, or, as it is asserted that the causa- 
tive powers of the past are divided in space, upon the 
time and place at which it was dropped into the cur- 
rent of events. 

Any reasoning upon these questions must ultimately 
rest upon the consciousness. There is no bringing 
the argument, either for the mind's freedom or for its 
necessity in effort, home to one who has no conscious- 
ness of effort. If he has not this direct intrinsic cogni- 
tion of it, he cannot know it at all, for, as there is 
nothing with which it has in itself any similitude, 
there is no extrinsic mode of imparting even a con- 
ception of it to him. Such a being, however, though 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 101 

he might have knowledge and feeling, and might be 
the passive subject of action, could not himself act, — 
could not make effort, — for an unconscious effort is 
in thought as absurd as an unfelt feeling. But, while 
the fact of effort involves the consciousness of it as a 
necessary concomitant, it is not so certain that the 
consciousness of effort is conclusive as to the fact of 
effort. A feeling, either in the form of a sensation or 
an emotion, cannot be merely representative. That I 
feel, is itself the ultimate fact in the case for which 
no other can be substituted, and which no other can 
account for on the ground of mistake or otherwise. 
But it seems conceivable that our conception of an 
effort may so represent effort in us as to be mistaken 
for it ; in other words, that we may have the feeling of 
effort without actual effort, the feeling being conclusive 
only of its own existence, and not of the effort to 
which the feeling is attributed, as the sensation of 
material resistance is proof only of the existence of 
the sensation, and not of the existence of the matter 
to which we refer it as its cause, or even of any actual 
resistance whatever. One's consciousness or internal 
perceptions are the best possible, if not the only, 
ground of belief to himself, but not to others. One 
cannot be mistaken as to his own actual consciousness, 
or his actual sensations, but he may draw erroneous 
inferences from either. 

In this view, I could not, as against any one deny- 
ing the fact, insist that our consciousness of effort is 
conclusive proof even that we make effort, much less, 
the fact of effort being admitted, urge any dicta of 
consciousness as proof that such effort is either free or 
not free. Hence, too, I deem your objection to Sir 
William Hamilton's position, that freedom is directly 



102 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

proved by our consciousness, well founded; but it 
seems to me that your objection, if not actually too 
broadly stated, is liable to be so construed. You say, 
" consciousness tells me what I do or feel. But what 
I am able to do is not a subject of consciousness. Con- 
sciousness is not prophetic. We are conscious of what 
is, not of what will be. We never know that we are 
able to do a thing except from having done it, or some- 
thing equal and similar to it." 

In regard to that for which effort is made, it may be 
true that we can only know or judge of the probability 
of our actually doing it by our experience in similar 
cases. But, if the effort itself is the thing to be done, 
I contend that we must be conscious of our ability to 
do it, and must have an expectation, a '' prophetic " 
anticipation, that we can or may accomplish that which 
is the object of the effort, otherwise the effort would 
not be put forth, and for our first actions we must have 
these prerequisites prior to experience. I have before 
given my reasons more fully for the position that the 
knowledge of a mode of effort, and also that by effort 
we can move our muscles, must be innate, preceding 
all experience.^ If, in this, I am right, the present 
existence of the knowledge of this ability is a matter 
of consciousness. It is still, however, only a percep- 
tion of feeling of our being able to move our muscles, 
and we might yet be mistaken in inferring an actual 
ability from this perception or feeling of it. Our 
knowledge of this ability, however, whether it conform 
to the fact or not, is still innate, and a direct revela- 
tion of consciousness. 

We agree that the mind does make effort, and in 
discussing those questions of its freedom in which we 

^ Causation, page 16. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 103 

differ, I shall endeavor to postulate nothing from con- 
sciousness which you will not admit. 

You have adopted a position which seems to be a 
common one on both sides of the controversy; viz., 
that freedom in any act of will requires that we 
should, at the time of willing, be able to will the con- 
trary. This raises the question, are we thus able? 
And as both parties agree in bringing this to the test 
of consciousness, I will consider it here, deferring for 
the moment the question of our ability to begin action, 
to which I was about to apply the foregoing views. 

As against Sir William Hamilton's inferring free- 
dom directly from consciousness, you say, '' To be con- 
scious of free will, must mean to be conscious before I 
have decided that I am able to decide either way." I 
would say that, to be conscious of free will must mean 
to be conscious, before I have decided that it is I that 
am to decide ; that I am to determine my own act of 
will at my own pleasure, or as on examination I shall 
find will suit me best. The case you state, whether 
one will prefer to murder or not to murder, does not 
raise the question of freedom in willing, but only of 
preferring or choosing, which, though heretofore held 
to be the same as willing, you agree with me is some- 
thing entirely different. The willing to murder is 
just as free as the willing not to murder, and the only 
question touching the freedom of the willing is the 
same in either case ; viz.. Does the being as he is, 
good or bad, himself determine to make the effort to 
murder, or not to make it ? Whether he determine 
to make, or not to make, may indicate what his char- 
acter is, but has no bearing upon the question of his 
freedom. As the relations of character to freedom 
will hereafter be considered, T will not here comment 
upon them. 



104 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Your analysis of the phenomena of consciousness, 
and of the manner in which, through it, the belief in 
an ability " to do or abstain," or to do " the other 
way," as you state it, but which is often stated as an 
ability to "do the contrary," is induced, does not con- 
flict with my positions, but is in accord with them. 

That this ability to " do the contrary " is essential 
to freedom, seems also to have been reached through 
a logical error in this wise. Freedom and Necessity 
being assumed to be directly opposed, the one of neces- 
sity excluding the other, it follows that the freedom of 
an act requires that it should not be of necessity ; and 
then, as necessity implies that which must be and can- 
not be otherwise, it becomes essential to the freedom 
of an act of will that it could be otherwise, which, as 
between it and not acting, or between it and any other 
contemplated act, is to say it could be the contrary. 
It is hardly necessary to urge that the conclusion is 
vitiated by using the term necessity in two different 
senses. So far is it from being true, that to be free in 
willing one must be able to will the contrary, that if it 
could be proved that an effort could be otherwise than 
in conformity to the intent, design, and object of the 
actor, it would tend to prove him not free in his effort. 
Our freedom in willing is evinced by our willing to do 
what we want to do, and it cannot be necessary to this 
freedom that we should be able even to try to do what 
we do not want to try to do. 

The expression " ability to do the contrary," so often 
used, has a vagueness which is not wholly removed by 
a change to ability to idUI the contrary. The ques- 
tion, what is the "contrary"? still arises. If the 
question is only between doing and abstaining, willing 
or not willing, there is no doubt as to which is " the 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 105 

other," or what is the " contrary." But, as between 
positive acts, the '' contrary " is not always so clear. 
Going down stairs is the contrary to going up stairs. 
If I am already at the foot I cannot go down, but I 
may go up. But this inability to go up is not a de- 
ficiency in the freedom of willing, but of the knowl- 
edge of a mode of willing. The inability attaches as 
much to unfree as to free will. If the willing is free, 
i, e., if I control and direct my own act of will to the 
doing of anything, I must know some possible mode 
of doing it ; I must have a plan of action by which to 
direct my effort to the doing ; and if, on the other 
hand, my act of will is not free, i, e., if it is controlled 
and directed by some extrinsic intelligent agent, that 
agent must direct it in conformity to some plan known 
to it, and in either case the want of the knowledge of 
a plan renders the act of will impossible. If it be 
said that this reasoning does not apply to control by 
unintelligent power, it may be replied that such power, 
even when exerted without intelligent design, must 
still conform the willing of the controlled being to 
some plan of doing the thing, and there being no pos- 
sible plan of going down stairs from the bottom, such 
conforming is impossible. It is not a question of 
power, for infinite power could not overcome the 
difficulty. 

Reducing the case to its lowest terms, if the actual 
willing is a free willing, then the freedom to will the 
contrary would be a freedom to will unf reely ; and to 
assert that the mind is not free because it has not the 
liberty to be unfree, or because it cannot be otherwise 
than free, is the sophism to which I have heretofore 
reduced some of the necessitarian arguments, and upon 
which I need not now comment. Under my defini- 



106^ CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

tioii, the freedom to will the contrary of an actual free 
act would be freedom to will counter to one's own con- 
trol or direction, which, again, would be a freedom to 
be unfree ; and the position is here again reducible to 
the same sophism and absurdity as the more radical 
case of it just stated. 

Returning, now, to the question of our ability to 
begin action, I think it will be admitted that we are 
at times unconscious of effort ; and if, as I have en- 
deavored to show, the existence of an effort involves 
the consciousness of it, it follows that at such times we 
really are inert, — that, in fact, we sometimes are in 
a passive condition. And, in reference to the mind's 
ability to put forth its power, and begin effort in the 
absence of all other causative power or force, and of 
course when no other such power or force is acting 
upon it, I suggest this case : Suppose one, while in 
an unconscious and consequently passive state, to be 
taken by a tornado into an unknown forest where 
everything was wholly passive, and that the last effect 
of the tornado, or the effect of its ceasing to exist, was 
to awaken him from the unconscious to a conscious 
state, in which he felt hungry or lonely, can it be 
doubted that he could immediately make effort to 
pluck any fruit in sight, or to get out of the uninhab- 
ited district ? It will be borne in mind that his per- 
ception of the conditions is passive, and that in the 
premises there is no power to act upon him prior to 
his own acting, and hence, unless he can thus begin 
action, everything must there remain passive until the 
ingress of some other power. 

Strictly speaking, there is perhaps no difficulty in 
conceiving an absolute beginning of action, the real 
difficulty lying in conceiving of the creation, or even 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 107 

the existence of anything to act, before there has been 
any action to produce it. However this may be, there 
is no difficulty in conceiving the beginning of action 
by each individual intelligence after it comes to exist, 
nor of the beginning of each particular action of such 
individual. We cannot conceive an absolute begin- 
ning of time, but have no difficulty in conceiving of a 
beginning of any designated portion of it. 

In our notions touching the beginning of effort, we 
are misled by the analogies of material phenomena. 
When matter is quiescent, it requires the direct appli- 
cation of force to put it in motion. When mind is 
quiescent, it requires a change in its knowledge — in 
its perceptions. As a prerequisite of action it must 
obtain the perception of a sufficient reason for acting ; 
but this, as before stated, it may passively obtain. A 
conative intelligent being, in virtue of its intelligent 
perceptions, can design a future effect, and at pleasure 
apply the power, which, in virtue of its inherent 
faculty of effort, it possesses in itself, to produce the 
effect. Having, in itself, all the requisite attributes, 
it can, of itself, begin action, and stop or change its 
action to conform to its changing perceptions of future 
effects, and to any change in its design ; while unin- 
telligent matter must be moved by something not 
itself, and then cannot stop its motion, or change its 
direction ; but for these also requires to be acted upon 
by something not itself. A combustible material does 
not stop or change its course to avoid a consuming 
fire. An intelligent being will, of itself, stop or 
change its action to avoid painful consequences. 

To the action of a being with a faculty of effort, 
wants demanding effort, and knowledge to apply its 
effort to the desired ends, no extrinsic or prior appli- 



108 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

cation of power or force is requisite, for all that is 
necessary is, that it should perceive that there is an 
occasion — a reason — for putting forth its own in- 
herent power. This reason is always the present per- 
ception of some desirable result in the future. It is 
thus isolated from the forces of the past. The past 
may have made the being what it is, with its knowl- 
edge and its wants ; but how or when it came to be 
such a being as it is, has now nothing to do with its 
power to begin action, or with its freedom in acting. 
The question is not, how it came to be such a being as 
it is, but whether, being as it is, it now wills freely, or 
is capable of self-activity, and of beginning action. 
Such a being, if created and thrown among the exist- 
ing conditions at this instant, could immediately begin 
action — could make effort to change the present, and 
conform the future to its wants, whether (in the ab- 
sence of its own effort) it expected that future to be 
the same as the present, or to be varied by the ac- 
tion of other causative power ; in short, could act upon 
and vary the fixed conditions, or flowing events, to 
make the future different from what, but for its ac- 
tion, it would be. As to the fixed conditions he could 
do this if there were no other power in the universe, 
and, as to the changing or flowing conditions, he could 
do it though all the other powers in the universe w^ere 
wholly absorbed in changing the conditions, leaving no 
extrinsic power to act upon himself, and of course, in 
either case, there is no power to control, or even to act 
upon the being thus making the effort, and he must, 
therefore, act of himself, and so acting, without being 
in any wise acted upon, act freely. 

Nor could it make any difference when the exist- 
ence of the conditions commenced, or whether they 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 109 

ever had any commencement ; whether they have ex- 
isted in their present or in some other form from all 
eternity, or are the immediate creation of the instant, 
constituting, with the like instantaneous creation of 
the conative intelligence, an absolute commencement 
of creation, having no past. The question as to ac- 
tion is still the same. What, under these conditions, 
as they now actually are, is the active being, with its 
existing knowledge and want, to do or attempt to do ? 
In either case, the power of such being to change, or to 
attempt to change, the existing conditions, is the same. 
It may be objected, that we have no experience in 
regard to action in the supposed cases of the creation 
at the instant of action, either of the active agent, or 
of the conditions to be acted upon, or of both ; but 
even if this is true, such hypothesis would still be al- 
lowable to eliminate the accidental phenomena and 
associations from the essential elements of volition, 
as in demonstrating a property common to all trian- 
gles we eliminate, in our reasoning, all the conditions 
except those which belong to all figures with three 
sides, and reason exclusively from these. But, as be- 
fore shown, on every occasion for action there is some 
change, either in the knowledge or wants of the active 
agent, or in the conditions to be acted upon, and with 
every change, whether effected by the past, by the 
power and forces of the past, or by any other cause 
whatever, or by no cause, the aggregate existence re- 
garded as an entirety, is, at the instant of change, a 
new and immediate creation, in which the intelligent 
]peing finds himself suddenly placed, and often under 
circumstances wholly unexpected, but still is ever 
ready to put forth his inherent power of effort, if in 
the conditions of this new creation he perceives a 



110 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

reason for so doing. Every intelligent being has, in 
fact, continually to adapt its efforts to the various 
circumstances of the new creation of each instant, and 
in so doing meets with no compulsion or constraint. 
He may always freely try to do, though he may not 
always have power to do. Though at each instant 
there cannot be an absolute commencement of crea- 
tion, there is in each a commencement of a new crea- 
tion, and if, at any one instant, all the causative pow- 
ers and forces, which brought about the then existing 
conditions, should cease to be, having just introduced, 
as their last effect, one single conative being, this one 
could still put forth effort to change the quiescent 
conditions, and conform them to his want. The effort, 
in such case, is a beginning of the exercise of power. 
In the quiescent phenomena, and in the mind's per- 
ceptions of them and of the requisite changes in them, 
there is no power, but only subjects upon which to 
exert it, and passive perception of desirable objects 
to be obtained by its being exerted. For these the 
mind puts forth its effort, and doing this in the ab- 
sence of any power to act upon it, manifests its own 
power of self-action — of acting as an originating first 
cause. 

If, instead of all the other causative powers ceasing 
to be, we suppose them to continue active, but in such 
manner as not to affect the action of the particular 
conative being, the result is the same. He must then 
act of himself upon his own perceptions of a reason 
for acting, and without being first acted upon by any 
extrinsic power. ^ 

It cannot be said by the advocates of the controlling 
power of the past, that this hypothesis of the non- 
influence of existing causes is either inconceivable or 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. Ill 

inadmissible ; for, if they contend that the volition of 
the being is at any and every instant the effect of the 
whole past, then, as the whole past is the same to all, 
the volition of every being would be the same at the 
same instant ; ^ and if, to avoid this consequence of 
their assertions of a causative power in the past, and 
of the necessary uniformity of causation, they say 
that the whole past does not act upon each individual, 
then they admit that portions of the past may not af- 
fect the volition of this individual being ; and if por- 
tions may be dispensed with, it is conceivable that any 
and every portion may be so eliminated; and, further, 
that nothing of the past of necessity affects the voli- 
tion of any particular being, and hence, such being 
may act uninfluenced by these past conditions. Upon 
the efforts of the being to make his way out of the 
forest, into which he had been hurled by a tornado, 
the changes originating in the past, such as the pres- 
ent growing of the trees, or the motion of the foliage, 
may have no influence, and all such changing ele- 
ments being eliminated, he, as he now exists, with his 
knowledge and his wants, acts as a sole agent of 
change upon his own perceptions of the passive condi- 
tions of the present, and without the appliance of any 
extrinsic power of the past or present. 

Having in himself a faculty of effort, and the 
knowledge of a mode of directing his effort to a de- 
sirable result, he liimself puts forth and directs his 
effort ; and it is of no consequence how or when he 
acquired this faculty and this knowledge, or whether 
to them there has been any past. It is sufficient that 
he now has them. 

^ For a more general statement of this position, see Causation, 
page 43. 



112 CA USA TION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

In the eases of instinctive action, the being is cre- 
ated with the knowledge of the mode of action, and 
has not acquired it by any experience in the past. It 
need not know, and probably does not know, that 
the conditions upon which it first acts had any exist- 
ence prior to its own, and so far as its action is con- 
cerned, there is no necessity that they should have 
had any prior existence whatever. Their present ex- 
istence is all that is essential to their being acted 
upon ; as the present existence of the being with its 
faculty of eifort, its want of change, and the knowl- 
edge of a mode of directing its effort to produce the 
change, are all that is essential to his acting upon 
them. The same is evidently true in all other cases 
of action. Whether the faculty of effort, the knowl- 
edge by which it is directed, and the want, are any or 
all of them innate or acquired, or whether they existed 
in the past, or not till the instant of the effort, can make 
no difference to the freedom of the beins: in the effort. 

It is not, then, necessary to a volition that the ac- 
tive being should have had a prior existence, or that, 
so far as the being and the existing conditions are con- 
cerned, there should have been any past — their im- 
mediate creation at the instant serving equally well 
for all the purposes of voluntary action. 

Nor does it matter by what power or cause the pres- 
ent existing conditions have been, or are brought 
about, whether by the effort of the actor or other in- 
telligent power, by matter in motion, by some myste- 
rious power of '' the past," or as the last result of a 
continuous series of antecedents and consequents in a 
chain of causes and effects. The prior cause of the 
existence of the present conditions does not, in any 
respect, vary their power, or give them any power to 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 113 

produce or hinder a volition. The intelligent being 
acts neither more nor less freely upon the existing con- 
ditions as they are, under any one of these hypoth- 
eses, than under any other of them, and, in fact, really 
acts upon them without any reference whatever to 
their causes, and just as freely as if there never had 
been any prior cause of their existence ; but they had 
either existed from all eternity, without any begin- 
ning or any coming into existence, or had, at this in- 
stant, begun to be without any cause. He has no oc- 
casion whatever, in deciding his action, to take into 
account what has been in the past, but only what, in 
view of the 'present^ will be in the future, or what 
may be expected. He acts entirely upon his present 
expectations, and looks to the past, or rather to his 
present memory of the past, only to increase his 
knowledge, and form more accurate expectations. It 
may be said that the knowledge of the past causes of 
the present conditions enters into, and becomes the 
possession or attribute of the being that is to act upon 
them, and that his action is influenced by this knowl- 
edge. The consideration of any such influence be- 
longs to our third category. The fact, however, is, 
that even the most intelligent finite being generally 
knows very little of the causes in the past which have 
produced the present, and for the purpose of deter- 
mining his own actions, seeks to divine them only to 
increase his knowledge, and enable him more certainly 
to foresee the future, and to avoid mistakes in his ac- 
tion. But were these causes ever so well known, that 
fact has no bearing upon the question of the ability of 
the being to begin action ; for, as before suggested, 
he might have this same knowledge at the instant of 
his creation without there having been any past, and 



114 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

his action would be just the same as if it had been 
acquired by past experience. It is his present knowl- 
edge of the relation of his action to the future effort, 
and not the knowledge of past relations, that he acts 
upon. Though in the past he may have acquired the 
knowledge which enables him more correctly to judge 
as to what the future will be, he is, in the present act 
of will, with this acquired power of divining the fu- 
ture, entirely isolated from that past. So far as his 
present action is concerned, the whole past has culmi- 
nated, and been concentrated in the knowledge (in- 
cluding that of the existing conditions) which has now 
become the possession or attribute of the knowing be- 
ing, and not the possession or attribute of the past. 
Neither the past nor the things or events of the past 
can know, or could, in the present, use knowledge to 
direct a volition, as to the future, in itself, or in any- 
thing else. 

It appears, then, that, to each individual, it makes 
no difference whether the course of events, or the fu- 
ture conditions which would obtain in the absence of 
his own action, will be produced by intelligent or ma- 
terial causes, or by the absence of all causes of change. 
He is only interested in knowing what they would be, 
and by what means he can, by his own action, make 
such differences in the future events and conditions as 
he deems desirable. With this knowledge, and an 
inherent faculty of activity, he can act independently 
of any other power or force, and resist or cooperate 
with any others, and if he, with such knowledge and 
faculty of action, and also the conditions to be acted 
upon, were the immediate creation of the instant, and 
had no past, he could still immediately begin action, 
and put forth effort to change the conditions. If 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 115 

there were no other power in existence, he could make 
effort to change the existing passive conditions, and, if 
there were other powers, he could himself conform his 
own action to the expected results of these coexisting 
causes of change without being first acted upon by 
them, and even though all other past causation had 
been wholly exhausted in producing the extrinsic con- 
ditions, and without any action upon himself, except 
such change in his knowledge as would result from 
the changed conditions. 

This power to begin action is the peculiar attribute 
of an intelligent being, with a faculty of effort, and 
with wants demanding effort. It is an immediate con- 
sequence of the fact that a being, having such faculty 
of effort, intelligence to perceive an object of effort, 
and to direct its effort to that object, or rather, with a 
view to that object (for the degree of sagacity with 
which it does it has no bearing upon the question of 
its ability to make, or of its freedom in making the ef- 
fort), has in itself all that is essential to action, and 
let it have come into existence when and how it may, 
can now of itself act upon any existing conditions, 
wholly independently of any powers which brought it 
into existence, or of any other power past or present ; 
and the past, as such, has no necessary relation to its 
present ability to make and direct its own effort. By 
means of its intelligence — its perceptions at the mo- 
ment — it uses and directs its inherent power by effort 
to produce such future change, as in its view of the ex- 
isting conditions it deems desirable. All experience 
attests that the moment we perceive a mode of effect- 
ing change, combined with a sufficient reason for 
adopting it, we are ready to make effort, requiring no 
prior action of power or force upon us to change us 



116 CA USATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

from the passive to the active state ; but only that in 
the present conditions we shall perceive a sufficient 
reason, now existing, for putting forth our power to 
affect the future. 

It is in view of this power to begin acting, and not 
as 2i first actor ^ that I regard every being that wills as 
a '' creative first cause," and hold that the future is al- 
ways the composite effect — the joint creation — of all 
these first causes, acting upon such fixed material as 
there may be to act upon, and modifying any necessary 
results of matter in motion.^ 

It may perhaps be said that even admitting that a 
conative intelligent being is thus independent of any 
exercise of power in the past, — can thus begin action, 
— still, that it does so is now the very thing to be ac- 
counted for — that the exercise of its inherent power is 
an event which now begins to be, for the existence and 
manner of existence of which there must be some 
cause. That though the volition or causative action 
may account for the existence of other phenomena, and 
for their being as they are, and not otherwise, its ex- 
istence does not account for itself, nor for its being as 
it is, and not otherwise. To account for anything is 
to ascertain the cause of its being, and for its being as 
it is. It is unfortunate that in this connection the 

^ It is from not recognizing- this power of mind to begin action, that 
Sir William Hamilton gets into all his difficulties, in regard to the al- 
ternative of "an absolute commencement ' ' on the one hand, and ' ' an 
infinite regress, a chain of causation going back to all eternity, ' ' on 
the other. The argument from this assumed necessity of an infinite 
regress, or an absolute commencement, is used by Edwards as espe- 
cially applied to volition, and also generally as involved in the law of 
cause and effect, or the necessity of a causal antecedent to every 
event. I have endeavored to point out the fallacies involved in his 
application of it in both these modes. See Freedom of Mind in Will- 
ing, Book II. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 117 

word cause h used to designate both the action of a 
power which makes or compels the existence of the 
event or thing, and also the perception of beneficial 
result, which is not itself power, but merely the reason 
why an intelligent being puts forth or exerts its power 
to bring an event or thing into existence. The facts 
and their relations, which are perceived, have in them- 
selves no power. They might have existed unper- 
ceived for any length of time, and in connection with 
all other contemporary circumstances, without produc- 
ing, or having any tendency to produce, any effect or 
change, and certainly could produce no volition in a 
being which did not recognize them. This added cir- 
cumstance of recognition, this jjerceptioii of the exist- 
ing facts and their relations, has not, in itself, nor 
when combined with the other circumstances, any act- 
ual substantive power. This inheres in, and is put 
forth or exerted, not by the circumstances, nor by the 
perception of them, nor by the reason perceived, nor 
by any combination of these elements, but by the per- 
ceiving being, which, as a self-active jwwer^ does not 
require the previous exercise of power upon it, but 
only that it shall perceive that the present or expected 
conditions admit of desirable changes, which, in its 
view, are a sufficient reason, or offer a sufficient in- 
ducement, to put forth its power by effort to effect 
these changes. 

Matter in motion being the only known means by 
which the effects of causative power are extended, 
either in time or space, it is through such motion that 
we seek to connect any motion or change in that 
which cannot move itself with a self-active or origi- 
nating cause ; and, as intelligent being, with a faculty 
of effort, is the only self-active or originating power 



118 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

known to ns, we seek to trace back any such motion or 
change to the exercise of this power, and having done 
this, there is no further inquiry as to what power pro- 
duced the phenomenon. A volition or effort differs 
from the phenomena, which we thus trace back to 
their primary cause, in being itself the exercise of the 
power, or its immediate manifestation in action. It is 
that particular state of the existence of the being in 
which it acts as power, and is embraced in that exist- 
ence without any connecting link ; and hence no trac- 
ing through such link in the case of volition is possible. 
We have accounted for the motion or change by trac- 
ing it to the exercise of a self-active, self-directing, 
originating, or first cause ; and no longer look for its 
antecedent power, or for the power of this power, 
though we may still seek a solution of the very differ- 
ent questions as to how this power came to exist, or 
under what conditions it exists, or is productive of 
effects. 

To the first of these, how intelligence, as manifested 
in a conative being, or otherwise came to exist, no in- 
telligible answer has yet been given. The conditions 
of its existence are knowledge and feeling combined 
with a faculty of effort, all these being essential to the 
exercise of its power by effort. When we seek to ac- 
count for the action of such being, we do not look for 
any extrinsic power that makes the effort or compels 
and gives direction to it, but we seek the reason which 
the being itself passively perceived for putting forth its 
own power, and this perception of a sufficient reason, 
which is the only prerequisite of its effort, is as distinct 
from power or effort, as the sensation of vision is from 
its object. When we find that the being had a want, 
and perceived that by effort he could gratify that want, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 119 

we have found the elements of this sufficient reason. 
There was no power in these elements, singly or com- 
bined, and power here commences — begins to be — 
without previous power to cause it to begin to be. 
With want and knowledge, both in themselves passive 
and incapable of effort, or of manifesting power in any 
way, the intrinsic potentiality is developed, genetic 
power is evolved, and action begins to be. 

We trace back a river towards its source, and find 
each portion of it preceded by what is also a portion 
of a river, and which, in its flow, makes the succeeding 
portion, but at length come to where the supply of 
water is no longer from a section of the river ; and con- 
tinuing the regressive examination, we find that the ac- 
tion of heat, a thing entirely different from a river, is 
among the essential antecedents of its existence. So, 
too, tracing back any change in matter, we may find 
that each successive phenomenon has, for many steps, 
been caused by antecedent motion of matter ; but at 
length we come to where the antecedent is not a move- 
ment of matter, but a volition or effort, and continuing 
this regressive examination, find that knowledge and 
want, or rather the perception of reasons founded upon 
them, are among the prerequisites of the volition or ef- 
fort, and all these prerequisites being wholly passive, 
with no element of action, are as different from volition 
as the heat of the sun is from the water of the river ; 
but by this combination of intelligence with a faculty 
of effort, activity is generated directly from passivity, 
without the necessity of any prior action of power 
upon the combined elements which characterize the 
conative being. 

The views now presented, I trust, are sufficient to 
establish the ability of the mind of itself to begin 



120 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

action without the application to it of any prior power 
or force constraining or compelling it to act ; but, be 
this as it may, I presume it will, at least, be admitted 
that neither the Past, nor any causative Powers or 
Forces in the past, directly act upon the mind in the 
present, causing or compelling it to act, and to act in a 
particular manner ; but that the Past and its causative 
agencies only indirectly affect the mind's action, by 
having already changed either the mind itself, or the 
conditions upon which it is to act ; thus changing the 
elements in the relations of which the mind perceives 
the reasons and inducement for effort, and for the 
particular effort which it puts forth. 

It is in these external and internal conditions, and 
the inducements which grow out of their relations, 
that, admitting that the mind does determine its own 
action, you find a power or influence which determines 
it to determine. This word influence^ perhaps, occa- 
sions as much confusion, and underlies as much fallacy, 
as any one used in this discussion, cause and choice ex- 
cepted. Like cause, it is applied to power itself, and 
also to the perception by a sentient being of a reason 
for exerting its power ; neither the perception nor the 
reason perceived being in themselves power. As dis- 
tinguished from the actual appliance of power, influence 
always implies the mind's perception of a reason. It 
is admitted that any changes made in the conditions 
in the past may vary the mind's perception, but such 
perception or reason being but a form of knowledge, 
the consideration of its effect on the freedom of the 
mind's effort will properly come under our third cate- 
gory, and leave us, in the second, only to consider the 
power of external conditions to produce, control, or de- 
termine the mind's effort : or to control or determine 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 121 

it in its own act of determining ; or in any wise to in- 
terfere with its freedom in acting. 

If the external conditions have such controlling pow- 
er, then, it must be admitted that the mind, in its ac- 
tion, is controlled by something which is not itself, and 
is, therefore, not self-controlled, and not free in its ac- 
tion. This is the question involved in our second cate- 
gory. 

The first difficulty in arguing this point is that of 
fixing upon any conceivable mode in which these ex- 
ternal conditions (the influence which belongs to the 
mind's perception or knowledge of them, and not to 
the conditions themselves being excluded) can act upon 
the will itself, or so act upon the mind that wills as to 
control its action, or in any way interfere with its free- 
dom in effort. 

Some conception or idea of what is asserted is es- 
sential either to sustaining or refuting it. 

It cannot be intended to assert that some partic- 
ular hind of extrinsic conditions prevent free action, 
while others do not, for this would, in some cases, 
admit the freedom which is wholly denied as impos- 
sible. The assertion, then, must be, that the mere 
existence of conditions of any kind excludes freedom. 
The position seems to be, that as the mind must con- 
form its efforts for change to the conditions to be 
changed, those conditions do control and determine 
its efforts; and, conditions to be changed being al- 
ways prerequisites of the mind's effort, it is always 
thus controlled and determined by them, and the 
mind being so controlled in its effort by something 
extrinsic to itself, is not free in its effort. The argu- 
ment assumes that the action is invariably conformed 
to the existing conditions, and that the conditions or 



122 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

subjects to be acted upon, control and determine the 
action of the agent that acts upon them. 

If only unintelligent external conditions and the 
intelligent active agent are taken into consideration, 
and the control of the volition must be attributed to 
the one or the other of these two, it would be more 
rational to attribute it to that which wants change, or 
which can perceive the relation of its effort to the ex- 
pected effect, and of that effect to its want, than to 
the conditions which resist the change for which the 
effort is put forth, and which cannot know the want 
nor the changes required for its gratification, nor the 
effort fitted to produce them ; in short, to attribute 
the effort for change to that which desires change and 
knows how to effect it, rather than to that which re- 
sists change and does not know. The external condi- 
tions are related to the mind's effort only as objects 
to be acted upon, and altered by the effort. To say 
that they cause the volition, is to say that what re- 
sists, and is to be overcome, causes the effort which 
overcomes it ; and the word cause is thus applied, not 
to that which has power to change^ but to that which 
is to he changed. The power to act is attributed to 
the passivity to be acted upon, and the passive subject 
of the action is deemed the active cause. 

It is essential to the gratification of the want of the 
actor that certain changes should be effected in these 
conditions; but this does not imply ^nj power in the 
conditions to act upon, and produce, control, or direct 
the effort of the actor, any more than it does to di- 
rectly act upon and change themselves without any 
such intermediate effort. We can, at least, as well 
conceive of their acting directly upon themselves as 
upon anything which is extrinsic to them. The per- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 123 

ception by the active being that the change is essen- 
tial to his gratification, is to him a reason for acting ; 
and from the vague manner in which reason and 
cause are used as interchangeable terms, and the 
further confounding of the conditions with the mind's 
perceptions regarding them, the conditions are loosely 
and improperly said to be the causes instead of the 
objects of the effort, to which they have no other 
relation than that which arises from their being the 
things to be acted on and changed. In these changes, 
but more especially in the efforts for these changes, 
the conditions are the passive subjects, not the active 
agents. In the phenomena of effort it is necessary 
that conditions to be acted upon and changed should 
exist, but not that these conditions should act, or have 
any power or force. Effort is itself the exercise of 
power, and is in no sense the effect or consequence of 
power exerted. Whatever makes the effort exerts or 
puts forth the power, and this exercise of power can- 
not be by one being or thing and the effort by an- 
other, for this exercise of power and the effort are 
one and the same thing. 

The conditions external to the mind do not act its 
will, do not make effort, nor do they act the mind to 
act the will, nor directly move the mind to will. The 
direct action of the material external conditions can 
only be by means of impinging bodies in motion, and 
neither the mind nor its effort can be the immediate 
subjects of such action. The mind's effort may be 
conformed to these external conditions ; but such a 
conforming can only imply that the effort will be such 
as is required, by the existing conditions, to produce 
the desired result in the future ; and what this result 
is, the conditions, being unintelligent, cannot know. 



124 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

nor, if knowing, could they devise a mode of action 
by which to reach it. 

Even if there are among the external conditions 
intelligent agents knowing all the conditions and the 
result desired by the active being, and also the effort 
required to produce that result, there is still no known 
means by which such agent could directly act upon the 
will of another, or move or act the mind of another to 
move or act. All such direct action upon the Will^ 
by any agency whatever, implies that it is a distinct 
entity to be acted upon, and not the mere state of 
something acting ; and if an effort could be produced 
in this way, it would be the effort of the agency pro- 
ducing it. If the effort in my mind is by myself, it is 
my effort ; if it were by some other intelligent agent, 
it would be his effort, and if by some material thing, 
it would be its effort. The latter hypothesis needs 
no comment. 

If the effort in my mind is produced by another 
mind, it must be by the action, i. e., by the effort 
of this other mind, and the hypothesis involves all 
the difficulties of self -originating effort (with the 
alternative of an infinite series of extrinsic efforts) ; 
and in addition thereto, the further difficulty of con- 
ceiving of some mode in which the effort of one mind 
can directly produce effort in another, of which mode 
we have no experience or knowledge, nor do we ever 
make effort to make the effort of others, or to di- 
rectly vary the efforts which others will make ; but 
we always do this indirectly, by changing the knowl- 
edge of those whose efforts we would influence, and 
this again we always do by some change in the ma- 
terial conditions of which both parties have a com- 
mon cognition. This use of material phenomena to 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 125 

change the knowledge upon which the action depends, 
may be one reason why the action is so generally sup- 
posed to be controlled by these phenomena. But, 
though our knowledge is so dependent upon the ex- 
trinsic conditions that change is produced in the 
former by changing the latter, still, the actual condi- 
tions, be they mere change of sensations or otherwise, 
and the mind's perception of them, are two entirely 
distinct and different things, and the influence of this 
perception or knowledge upon the mind's freedom w^e 
are to consider hereafter. 

It may be said that the present conditions were 
made as they are by causative powers of change in the 
past, and action, in conformity to the particular con- 
ditions thus created, must also be determined with the 
conditions. This assumes either that the mere fact of 
change in the conditions, or the changed conditions 
themselves, are incompatible with freedom. The 
former, I presume, will not be asserted, and in regard 
to the latter, the argument on this point for necessity 
generally, as drawn from the influence of conditions, 
has already assumed that the influence attaches alike 
to all conditions. The nature of these conditions can 
make no difference to the freedom of the intelligent 
agent acting upon them, for it is obvious that the 
mind can act as freely in regard to any one set of them 
as to any other, or rather in regard to that expectation 
of the future which it infers from one set of condi- 
tions as from that inferred from any other set ; and, 
hence, the power in the past or present to change the 
conditions to be acted upon, does not imply any power 
to interfere with the freedom of the actor. 

It is of no consequence whether the conditions to 
be acted upon — things or events — are the creation of 



126 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

the instant, or are in any sense the product of the past. 
The expectation in regard to the future^ which arises 
from the present existing conditions, is all that con- 
cerns the being in its efforts in relation to them. The 
events or changes produced by physical agencies (if 
any such) are of necessity, and must be, if not inter- 
fered with, in a certain fixed order of succession, and 
this order may be regarded as a portion of the exter- 
nal conditions to be acted upon, and changed by in- 
telligent causes which alone have power to interfere 
with and change it. 

In reference to action, however, such events and 
changes differ from those produced by intelligence 
only in the degree of certainty with which we can 
anticipate them, and this same difference obtains be- 
tween the actions of an intelligent being whose char- 
acter or habit inspires us with confidence as to his ac- 
tion, and one either unknown or known to be erratic. 
In this respect it, then, makes no difference whether 
the uniformity of nature arises from the necessitated 
action of blind forces which cannot change, or from 
the free action of a supremely wise and powerful in- 
telligence which does not vary its design, nor fail to 
effect what it designs. 

If all the existing conditions external to a conative 
intelligence are inert and powerless, then there is a 
positive expectation that the immediate future condi- 
tions will be the same as the present, with only such 
changes as this conative intelligence may itself pro- 
duce ; and in this case there is no extrinsic power to 
control or direct its effort, which must therefore be 
self-controlled, self-directed, and free. 

If there are other existing powers of change, the 
conative being still acts upon its perceptions or ex- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 127 

pectations of what, with this added element, the 
future, without, and with its own effort, would become, 
and in doing this as freely directs his action to pro- 
duce the result he desires, as when acting upon the 
more certain expectation which he had when he was 
himself the only power of change. He acts as freely, 
though not, perhaps, as confidently, in the one case as 
in the other. 

The whole argument for the controlling power of 
the conditions is founded upon the assumption that 
the volition must vary with, and conform to, any 
changes in them. 

That the mind's action, under one set of conditions, 
is different from what it would be under another set, 
or that it conforms its action to them, cannot argue 
any want of self-control or of freedom, for this adap- 
tation of its action to the conditions is just what 
would be expected of a self-controlled, intelligent 
being knowing the conditions ; and, on the other hand, 
action without reference to the existing conditions 
would indicate a necessitated, blind, or unintelligent 
movement. 

The very thing supposed to be freely done, is that 
the mind determines, in view of the circumstances, of 
which it is cognizant, and not that it determines in 
view of any other, or without reference to any circum- 
stances whatever. The object of the conative intelli- 
gence being to effect a certain change in the future, 
the change it wants, and the means of effecting it, will 
both depend upon what the conditions now are, and 
hence its efforts, if free, will vary with these condi- 
tions, and acting with this reference and consequent 
conformity to them, would not indicate any want of 
freedom in the actor. If, then, it w^ere true that the 



128 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

effort is always conformed to the external conditions, it 
would not prove that the conditions control the effort, 
but rather that the intelligent being controls and con- 
forms its effort to the conditions. 

But the assumption of this conformity, from which 
the controlling power of the conditions is inferred, is 
not warranted by the facts. 

What is meant by the volition or internal effort 
being thus conformed to the external conditions ? 
There are no particular internal efforts which can be 
said to fit certain external conditions. We cannot 
say that the effort to move the hand up or down, or 
horizontally, or any other particular effort, especially 
fits or is adapted to a bonfire, or any other specific ex- 
ternal condition, or even to any combination of such 
conditions. There is no such conformity in fact. 
The apparent conformity arises from the uniformity 
of like effort to like conditions. 

It would be more nearly true to say that the effort 
is conformed, not to the conditions, but to the mind's 
perception or view of them. When the view varies 
from the actual conditions, the effort is always con- 
formed to the view., and not to the conditions. We 
know this not only by our own experience, but by the 
narrated experience of others. People often account 
for their mistakes in action by saying that their view 
or knowledge of the conditions was erroneous or defi- 
cient, — did not conform to the actual conditions. 
Strictly speaking, however, the conformity is not to 
the actual conditions, nor to the mind's view of them, 
but to the mind's perception of the mode of acting 
upon the existing conditions so as to produce the fu- 
ture effect which it desires. This is the only conform- 
ity or fitness in the case ; and this, with the same ex- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 129 

trinsic conditions, may vary with each individual, and 
with the same individual at different times. If, then, 
in the supposed conformity of the effort to the condi- 
tions there was any reason for inferring a control of 
the effort by the conditions, then, upon this altered 
statement of the facts, this control should now be 
transferred to the mind's perception or knowledge of a 
mode of attaining its objects ; and this again carries 
the case to our third category, which we will new ex- 
amine. 

It is urged by the advocates of necessity that the 
volitions are, and must be, in accordance with the dis- 
position, inclination, desires, and habits, and, being 
thus necessitated, are not, and cannot be, free. This 
is substantially your position, except that you disclaim 
the knowledge of " any must in the case, any necessity 
other than the unconditional universality of the fact." 
You say the necessitarians '' affirm, as a truth of ex- 
perience, that volitions do, in point of fact, follow de- 
terminate moral antecedents with the same uniformity 
and (when we have sufficient knowledge of the cir- 
cumstances) with the same certainty as physical ef- 
fects follow their physical causes. These moral ante- 
cedents are desires, aversions, habits, and dispositions 
combined with outward circumstances suited to call 
these internal incentives into action. All these again 
are the effect of causes, those of them which are men- 
tal being consequences of education, and other moral 
and physical influences. This is what necessitarians 
affirm." 

Upon your statement, that " volitions follow deter- 
minate moral antecedents with the same uniformity 
and . . . with the same certainty as physical effects 
follow their physical causes," I would remark, in pass- 



130 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ing, that I have already raised the question as to the 
existence of any physical causes, and that upon my 
view the comparison you have here instituted is merely 
that of the uniformity of the action of the Supreme 
Intelligence as compared with our own. I have also 
essayed a demonstration, that the outward circum- 
stances cannot, of themselves, exert any power to con- 
trol the will ; and the same reasoning will serve to 
show that they acquire no such power by combination 
with desires, dispositions, or anything else ; that it is 
not in any case the outward circumstances, but the 
mind's own view of them (its knowledge) which alone 
has place in the perceptions by which its action is de- 
termined. The expression, " moral antecedents com- 
bined with outward circumstances," is then equivalent 
to moral antecedents combined with knowledge. This, 
I trust, will become obvious as I proceed, as also that 
the "moral antecedents " you allude to are all either 
modes of want or of knowledge, reducing all the influ- 
ence which you attribute to the combination of 
" moral antecedents " with " outward circumstances," 
to that of want and knowledge. 

These outward circumstances may vary the effect of 
volition, but, of themselves, have no bearing whatever 
upon what the volition will be, the mind's knowledge 
of them., which has such bearing, being something en- 
tirely different and distinct from the outward circum- 
stances. That in the way in which I would walk 
there is an impassable barrier that I know not of, has 
no influence upon my willing to walk that way, though 
it may prevent my walking as I willed. That I know 
there is an impassable barrier may prevent my willing 
to walk that way, even though there is in fact no such 
barrier. It is the hnoidedge., not the outward circum- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 131 

stances, which influences the mind in its willing. The 
moral antecedents mentioned are merely characteris- 
tics of intelligent beings, varying more or less in dif- 
ferent individuals, but in each making up its character. 
The character of a being is simply that which consti- 
tutes it what it is, and distinguishes it from what it is 
not. A being or thing with no properties, no character, 
would be no particular being or thing ; matter, with 
no extension, would be no matter ; and being, with 
no attributes, would be no being ; intelligent being, 
with no knowledge, would not be intelligent being ; 
conative being, without a faculty of effort, would not 
be conative being ; no conception of such existences 
is possible, and any expression, definition, or descrip- 
tion of them must be absurd and contradictory. 

The character is thus practically inseparable from 
the being as it is ; and any hypothetical separation of 
its characteristics, if total, involves the annihilation of 
the distinctive being, merging its substratum (if any) 
in the generic existence from which its peculiar char- 
acteristics had individuated it, and if partial, its con- 
version into a different being, with some of the same 
elements in it. But, in the question of effort, we have 
to do with the being as he is at the time of the effort ; 
and his character constituting him what he is^ any in- 
fluence of the character is in fact the influence of the 
being, thus constituted and thus distinguished, from 
all other existence. 

It may be urged that this character of the being, to 
which his actions correspond, has been made by the 
events of the past, including his own efforts, and that 
this has been the case at every stage of his progress. 
But it is not the past^ but the present character to 
which the action is conformed ; and how or when this 



132 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

was formed can make no possible difference to the 
present action : whether it has grown up slowly, un- 
der his observation, with or without his agency, or 
has fallen suddenly upon him from the clouds ready 
made, is not material ; the action which now conforms 
to it must still be the same. The doctrine of freedom 
does not assert that the willing being makes the con- 
ditions, external or internal, upon or under which he 
is to act, but admits that, in determining his own 
effort, he has reference to these conditions, be they 
what they may. If his own effort has heretofore had 
anything to do with the formation of his character — 
has in any way modified it — it may now do the same, 
and he may so change his character at this instant 
that his action, conforming to the change, will be dif- 
ferent from what the previous course of events would 
have produced. 

I have heretofore noted that the process by which 
we determine our effort is the same as that by which 
we change our characters. That, in both cases, it is 
by adding to our knowledge, and, hence, the two may 
be simultaneous ; and this interference with the chain 
of causation, reaching from the past (material or spirit- 
ual) by a new power thus instantaneously thrown in 
by a present effort, I hold to be a peculiar character- 
istic of volition, constituting the intelligent actor an 
independent, self -active power, or first cause, in cre- 
ating the future. He might be such a power, though 
his general character never changed. He might al- 
ways act in a manner consistent with such fixed char- 
acter, and yet act freely. Or, yet further, he might 
still act with perfect freedom, even though his char- 
acter were changed every instant by some extrinsic 
power. At each instant he could still direct his own 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 133 

action, and conform it to his own changed condition, 
and thus continue to be an independent power, vary- 
ing in some of its characteristics. Through all his 
mutations he might retain his self-control, and conse- 
quent freedom, in effort ; such change in the charac- 
ter of another is just what we often seek to effect when 
we would improve his general modes of acting ; and it 
is in the ability to do this, by imparting new truth, 
that we can render the most essential aid to each 
other. In doing this, we act upon the presumption 
that the being controls its own efforts, and conforms 
them to its own views ; for if its efforts are controlled 
by some extrinsic power, then, to change its efforts, we 
should seek to change the extrinsic power which con- 
trols them, and not the being in which they are but 
the manifested effects of this power. 

When, to change the action of another, we change 
the external conditions upon which he is to act, and 
produce a corresponding change in his knowledge, we 
do not thereby usually expect to change his general 
character, but only his view in the particular case as 
to what action, under the changed conditions, will suit 
him best, and very often only as to what, being as he 
is, will appear to him most expedient. But when we 
inculcate a new truth, touching the relations of action 
to duty and happiness, we may so change the general 
character, that the action upon the same conditions 
will thereafter be improved, or by inculcating selfish 
and false notions it may be deteriorated. As types of 
these two modes we might instance, on one hand, the 
coarse appliances of power by Tamerlane, Charle- 
magne, or Napoleon ; and on the other, the finer influ- 
ences of Plato, Howard, and Channing ; Archimedes, 
Galileo, Newton, and other scientists, occupying an 



134 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

intermediate ground. But the question, as between 
us, does not involve these extreme cases of fixedness 
of character, nor of incessant changes in its elements 
by extrinsic agencies. Upon the point that we can 
change our own characters, we do not differ. The ad- 
mission of my positions, that change of character is 
always produced by some change in our knowledge, 
and that we can acquire knowledge by our own pri- 
mary efforts, would give a broader significance to your 
felicitous statement that " we are exactly as capable of 
making our own character, if we will^ as others are of 
making it for us." ^ But to get over the answer to 
this, which you ascribe to the Owenites, that '' these 
words, 'if we will,' surrender the whole point," I 
think you must go further, and admit that, in virtue of 
the inherent attributes of our intelligent, feeling, and 
active nature, we can act without being first acted 
upon by any extrinsic power; and that our voluntary 
efforts are not mere terms, in a series of which each is 
controlled and determined, and made to be what it is 
by those which precede it ; but that, with each new 
phase of conditions and circumstances, we determine 
how we will act in reference to them, and may thus, 
with every such phase, begin a new series, resolving 
the whole into particular individuated acts, deter- 
mined in their succession only by our own intelligent 
perceptions of their fitness to the occasions as they 
arise. For if, as you hold, our volitions, like other 
phenomena, are the '^ necessary and inevitable" re- 
sult of antecedent " causes which they uniformly and 
implicitly obey," then, as our efforts to change our 
character are dependent upon these prior causes or 
antecedents, the change of our character by such 
A Logic, Book VI. Chap. II. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 135 

efforts is also completely, though secondarily, so de- 
pendent. We are thus placed in a current of events 
in which we have no control over our destiny. It is 
true we do not merely float passively and self-motion- 
less with this current, — we swim ; but the movements 
of the limbs, which constitute the swimming, are pro- 
duced or determined by the current, or by sections of it 
from behind us, as a part of the means by which the 
current really controls our course among the flowing 
events, and are not a self-exerted activity, induced 
by the intelligent perception of a desirable result to 
be produced in the future, and which as yet, having 
no actual extrinsic existence, cannot be an extrinsic 
power. It, as yet, exists only as an intrinsic expecta- 
tion. As germane to this portion of this subject, I 
would remark that I fully agree with you as to the 
legitimate objects of punishment ; but I would make 
some slight alterations in your statement, to show that 
it is, at least, as properly resorted to upon the hypoth- 
esis of freedom as upon that of necessity ; e. g,^ when 
you say, " Punishment proceeds upon the assumption 
that the imll is governed by motives," I would say, 
Punishment proceeds on the assumption that the 
being in loilling is governed by motives, or that he 
governs himself with reference to that expectation of 
the future result of his willing, which I hold consti- 
tutes the only motive to intelligent effort. Is it not 
obvious that prevention by motive is more properly 
applicable to the conditions of freedom than to those 
of necessity — to those who control their own actions 
rather than to those whose actions are controlled by 
something else? Has not the whole world always 
acted upon this idea ? When a man is supposed to be 
joossessed hy devils^ and cannot control himself, phys- 



136 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ical restraint is at once resorted to. We do not seek 
to change his willing, but to prevent his doing what 
he wills. When one is supposed to be self-possessed^ 
and to be able to control his own actions, resort is first 
had to motive, to the threat of future punishment; 
and if this does not prevent his willing to do wrong, 
he is forcibly deprived of the power to do the wrong 
by personal restraint, or, in extreme cases, by the 
death penalty. 

I suppose you would consider the provision for 
punishing crime as among the past antecedents, mak- 
ing one of the prior links in the chain of cause and 
effect which determines the act. In harmony with 
this, you say, if punishment had no power of acting 
on the will., it would be illegitimate. I would regard 
such provision as one of the conditions which changes 
the view, knowledge, or expectation of the mind as 
to what the effect of action counter to the law will be. 
The mere existence of the law has, in itself, no power 
to determine, or to change the determination of the 
being. If unknown, it might exist forever without 
any such effect, or tendency to it. But with the knowl- 
edge of its existence among the conditions, the being 
may itself deem best to vary its action from what it 
otherwise would be. Changing the conditions, by 
enacting a penal law, no more interferes with free 
agency than changing the conditions, by a move on 
the chess-board, interferes with the freedom of one's 
opponent in making his move to meet it. The agent, 
in both cases, must himself determine what, in view 
of the conditions as they now are, with the new law 
or the recent move, his own action will be ; and he 
does this just as fully, absolutely, and freely, under 
the existing conditions, as he would have done under 



CA USA rioy a nd fr bed om in willing, 137 

any other conceivable conditions ; as freely as if no 
law had been passed, or he had to move with t&e 
pieces on the board in the same position as they were 
before the last move of his opponent was made. 

Upon the hypothesis that volition is but an event 
which is determined by the prior events of the series, 
extrinsic or intrinsic, or both, the status and condi- 
tion of every being, whose existence has had a be- 
ginning, must be determined by circumstances over 
which he has no control ; for his first action must have 
been so determined, and this, in connection with other 
circumstances, all likewise controlled by their antece- 
dents, must successively predetermine each term of 
the series. The whole character and condition of the 
being, as before suggested, would thus depend upon 
the time at which he was thus dropped into the cur- 
rent of flowing events ; if at one instant, it may be 
predestined to unvaried virtue and happiness, and if 
the next, to eternal degradation and misery. Upon 
this phase of the necessitarian argument there is no 
reason to suppose that so long as the spirit exists it 
can escape this chain of cause and effect, or to expect 
that even death will break its links ; and hence, hav- 
ing once commenced, it matters not whether it here 
continues to be the subject of it for an hour or a cen- 
tury. Hence, a metaphysical logical basis is made 
for the doctrine of election and reprobation, including 
that of infant damnation. 

That this necessitarian view, that all events, in- 
cluding volitions, are in a chain of cause and effect, 
in which each successive link is forged and fashioned 
by those which precede it, thus logically sustains a 
doctrine which, however forbidding in its aspect, has 
been held by good, sincere, and zealous men, includ- 



138 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ing learned divines and intelligent laity, may perhaps 
be regarded by some as a confirmation of the verity 
of the position. I confess that, aside from any meta- 
physical reasoning, I have looked upon this belief as 
so unnatural and repulsive, so repugnant to all our 
notions of the goodness, justice, and benevolence 
which predominate in the universe, that any attempt 
to reconcile the obvious incompatibility would be 
hopeless ; and, hence, have regarded it as an error, 
which it was the province of philosophy to expose, 
and to show how it came to be believed. The spe- 
cious argument from cause and effect, in some of its 
aspects, I think, accomplishes this latter object ; but I 
do not see how you can reconcile it with your belief 
that we can form our own characters, and that the 
character, or the elements of it, controls our voluntary 
actions. 

In granting this much, it seems to me you sur- 
render the whole ground, for, in making our charac- 
ters, we virtually, so far, determine all the future 
volitions which are dependent upon its being what it 
is, i. e., what we thus make it. 

In other places, I have remarked upon our power 
to change our own characters, and pointed out some 
of the means which we possess for doing it.^ I find 
these in the efforts demanded by the constitutional 
wants of our spiritual nature, the alternations of its 
desires for activity and repose, its craving for variety 
and for progress, and in the fact that our actual phys- 
ical wants are, in their nature, temporary, leaving 
intervals demanding no effort for their gratification, 
in which the mind turns inwardly to itself, and there 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Book I. Chap. XIV. , and Language^ 
p. 95, Houg-liton, Mifflin & Co.'s edition. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 139 

gratifies its desire for activity in the imaginary con- 
ception — tho ideal creation — of such action as its 
moral and aesthetic nature require. In this castle- 
building, the mind may find a pleasurable and improv- 
ing exercise of its creative powers, in which, freed from 
the temptations of actual life, from the distractions of 
sense, and the immediate sway of the bodily appetites 
and vulgar passions, it decides, disinterestedly, as to 
what is good, and beautiful, and noble in conduct, 
and provides itself with ideal cases, to be practically 
applied as occasions for them arise. 

The alternation of desire for repose and activity, 
and especially as coupled with the want for variety, 
has a tendency to break in upon the continuity of the 
succession of events as determined by other causes, 
and to furnish each mind with occasions for the begin- 
ning of new and independent action, and for new se- 
ries of efforts. But, however important this ability to 
change one's own character, and its exercise, may be to 
the happiness of the individual and to the general 
welfare, it has no bearing upon the freedom of the 
agent; for, as just stated, he may be just as free if his 
character is never changed at all, either by himself or 
by others, though it could hardly so happen that expe- 
rience in action and in planning it, should not make 
such addition to his knowledge as would, in fact, 
change his character. 

It may also be observed that, upon the hypothesis 
of necessity, society loses that incentive to the im- 
provement of its members which arises from the inter- 
est it has in their good acting ; for if the improved be- 
ing does not control his own action, there is no ground 
for supposing that his action will be any better for 
his improvement. 



140 CA us AT ION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

It might, in such case, even be to the interest of so- 
ciety to deteriorate the character of such of its mem- 
bers as are controlled by extrinsic malignant powers 
or forces. It is not expedient to give the greatest effi- 
ciency to the enemy's weapons. 

I have before pointed out, generally, that the re- 
garding every event as the necessary and uniform se- 
quence of its antecedents, acting with the uniformity 
alleged of cause and effect, necessitates the hypothesis 
of a multiplicity of causes in the beginning ; for if we 
trace back the various series till we get a starting- 
point which is common to all, then, the antecedents be- 
ing the same to all, the succession of phenomena in all 
must be the same. Starting with unity, we could thus 
never get into diversity of being. This applies to the 
formation of character, as well as to other events. 

If, however, a being has in itself a faculty of activ- 
ity, and the knowledge to exert and direct its action, 
it is not material to the question in hand what its 
other characteristics may be, much less how acquired ; 
for though his being good or bad, wise or foolish, may 
make a great difference as to the design and nature 
of the efforts made, it makes none as to the freedom 
of the being in making them. It is obvious that an 
effort is neither more nor less constrained for being 
either good or bad in itself, in its design, or in its 
consequences, or for being put forth by a good or bad 
being. However such conative beings may be differ- 
entiated . from each other, they are equally free. A 
demon is as free as an angel. What object any one 
will select, ^. e., what effect he will try to produce in 
the future, may depend upon his character ; but this 
does not affect his freedom in trying to do what he 
selects as the object of his effort ; and that his effort 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 141 

IS in conformity to his character, certainly does not 
indicate that he is not the author and originator of 
his effort. 

A being, one of whose characteristics is, as in the 
case you state, '^ that he dreads a departure from vir- 
tue more than any personal consequences," is, in fact, 
virtuous ; and that in action he manifests such virtue 
— that his action is in conformity to his character — 
indicates that he directs his own action rather than 
the reverse. If the acts of a virtuous person, of one 
" who dreads a departure from virtue more than any 
personal consequence," were vicious, the inference 
then would be that he did not direct his own action. 
If he acts freely, it is impossible that his character 
and actions should be in opposition, for the voluntary 
actions are then but indices of the intentions, and it is 
in the intentions that the essence of virtue inheres. 
If the person w^re vicious, the conformity of his ac- 
tion to his vicious character would equally indicate 
his freedom. Any necessity that there is that the acts 
or efforts of a virtuous person must be virtuous, is 
only that which arises from the impossibility of his 
being both virtuous and vicious at the same time, or 
in the same act. 

Probably no one will contend that the freedom or 
non-freedom of effort is affected by the cast of the 
particular characters of the individual actor in these 
respects. 

The necessitarian argument on this point, like that 
on the influence of the external conditions, is general, 
asserting that as the effort must in all cases conform 
to the character, the effort is determined and con- 
trolled by the character, and hence is not free. 

Your argument virtually asserts that a man's voli- 



142 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

tions are not free, because he has a character to which 
they must or do conform. On this ground it can 
make no difference what the characteristics are by 
which the being is distinguished. As before stated, 
some characteristics are essential to its existence as a 
distinct being, and the argument for necessity is, that 
the necessary conformity (not to say identity) of voli- 
tion and character proves that the mind is not free in 
its willing ; and this, in one of its phases, is to assert 
that if one of the distinguishing characteristics of the 
being is that it acts freely, then it cannot act freely, 
because its action must conform to this characteristic ; 
which, again, is to say that the being is not free, be- 
cause, as constituted, it cannot be otherwise than free. 
Again, this argument assumes that the character is 
something distinct from, and extrinsic to, the willing 
being which it is supposed to determine and control, 
for otherwise it would prove the self-control and conse- 
quent freedom of the being. But, even admitting the 
necessary conformity as alleged, and yet further that 
the being and its character may be regarded as two 
distinct entities extrinsic to each other, the inference 
of necessity is not legitimate ; for, prima facie^ as al- 
ready suggested, it is at least as reasonable to infer 
that the active being conforms its acts to its character, 
as that the character (which in itself is passive) con- 
forms the acts to itself. 

If the being and the character are regarded as one, 
or the character as the attribute of the being, then 
this argument of the necessitarians amounts only to 
an assertion that the acts must, or always will conform 
to the character of the agent, and '' must," or the uni- 
formity expressed by ^' always will," implying neces- 
sity, and necessity excluding freedom, the agent is not 
free in such acts. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 143 

But this invariable conformity of the acts to the 
character of the active agent is precisely what we 
would expect if he controlled his own acts, and indi- 
cates that he does so control them, and consequently is 
free in such acts ; while, on the other hand, control of 
the acts by an extrinsic being, power, or force, with a 
different character, would furnish no ground of pre- 
sumption that the acts would be conformed to the 
character of the actor, if the being in which the action 
was manifested could then be called the actor. 

That the observed motion in a body was found to 
be always in conformity to the inclination, desire, or 
habit of a certain being, would be strong presumptive 
proof that this being controlled the motion. So, too, 
if the effort of a being was found to be always in con- 
formity to the inclination, desires, and habits of some 
being extrinsic to, and differing in these characteris- 
tics from that in which the acts occurred, this fact 
would indicate that the acts were controlled by this 
extrinsic intelligence. And this conformity of the 
acts of will to the inclinations, desires, and habits of 
the actor, which is on all sides admitted, must be re- 
garded as even more conclusively indicating that in 
these the active being controls its own actions, and 
especially as no one contends that the acts thus con- 
form to the character of any other being ; in which 
case the control, as between them, might be in ques- 
tion. Taking intention into account, there can no 
more be discrepancy between the free volitions and the 
general character of a being than between the aggre- 
gate of four groups of four each, and sixteen ; for the 
sum of such volitions must either make up, or pre- 
cisely represent and indicate the general character, 
whether it be what, in comparison with others, we 



144 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

would call an inconsistent or a consistent one. The 
efforts of a man are the exponents and measures of his 
character. The summation of his efforts and the result- 
ants of his character are equivalents ; and if our idea 
of character is identical with or involves that of what 
the man will try to do, — if, for instance, our concep- 
tion of a just man is identical with that of a man who 
wills to do justice, then all this reasoning to prove the 
necessary conformity of the volitions to the character, 
only affirms the truism that the thing is of necessity 
equal to and like itself. Any necessity in the case is 
merely the necessity that the action of a being acting 
freely will not be in contravention to its character ; 
which is merely to say that the manifestatio7i of the 
being's character in action will be a manifestation of 
the character of that being ^ and not a manifestation of 
a different character, i. e., what is, is as it is, and not 
as it is not. 

The fact, then, that the effort must be, or always is, 
in conformity to the character, so far from indicating 
any want of freedom, indicates that the being controls 
its own efforts, and hence in willing, acts freely. 

The foregoing reasoning deals with the character 
generally, and may serve to show that conformity of 
the action to it does not indicate any want of self-con- 
trol or freedom in the actor, but the contrary ; and, if 
so, it fully meets the argument which necessitarians 
have founded upon this conformity ; but the impor- 
tance which is attached to the argument by philoso- 
phers, and the hold which it has upon the popular 
mind, claims for it a more detailed examination. 

The word '' disposition " sometimes means the pres- 
ent inclination in the particular case, and sometimes 
that fixed general character which is formed or indi- 
cated by the general course or habit of action. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 145 

I have already treated of the conformity of the vo- 
lition to the character generally, and have remarked 
that the character may be changed in and by the 
process by which we determine our actions. Hence, 
though the action may always conform to the charac- 
ter as it is at the instant, it cannot be said that there 
is always a general and habitual disposition to which 
the volition is invariably conformed. It is the varia- 
tion in particular cases from the general conduct that 
makes the inconsistencies of character, good or bad, 
which are universally admitted to exist in most human 
natures, and which, perhaps of necessity, pertain to all 
beings neither perfectly wise, nor yet confined in their 
actions to the purely instinctive modes, the knowledge 
of which is innate or intuitive. 

As applied to the particular occasions of action, dis- 
positions, in common with inclinations and desires, are 
but modifications of want. Whatever a man has a 
disposition, inclination, or desire to possess or enjoy, 
he wants to possess or enjoy. Whatever he is disposed, 
inclined, or desirous to do, he %ciants to do ; though the 
use of these terms often implies that the want is not 
so urgent as to overcome conflicting wants and hinder- 
ances. They are often used to signify what a man 
would try to do if he could separate the effect of his 
effort from some undesirable consequence of it, or if 
his trying did not prevent some other desirable effort, 
or interfere with a desirable ease. They do not ex- 
clusively apply to the final decision made in view of 
all conflicting wants and inducements. 

In such cases, the use of these terms suggests the 
various desirable efforts, or objects of effort, among 
which, by a preliminary examination, we make a se- 
lection, or perhaps reject them all, and make no fur- 



146 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ther effort in regard to them, though it might still 
be said we had a disposition or an inclination to do 
so. This preliminary examination is always an effort 
to increase our knowledge, and the conclusion, when 
reached, is merely the knowledge that, all things con- 
sidered, it will suit us best to try to do this rather than 
that, or not to do either. I have before noted that the 
general or habitual character is liable to be changed by 
the additions to our knowledge, obtained in these pre- 
liminary examinations which we make for the purpose 
of determining our actions ; and would now remark, 
that the particular inclination or disposition of the 
occasion is still more obviously liable to be changed 
in this process. The object of it often is to test the 
expediency of such change in the existing inclination. 
That with every new discovery as to the effects of a 
contemplated effort, or as to what other desirable 
results may be reached by effort, our inclination as 
to what effort we will make may also change, is very 
apparent. 

There may be conflicting inclinations, desires, or 
aversions, among which we must, by the preliminary 
examination, make our choice. We may also desire 
what we know that we cannot attain by effort, or loathe 
what no effort of ours will prevent ; and in such case, 
even though we may have decided as .to the relative 
desirableness of the various objects compared, we still 
may not desire or choose to make an effort to attain it, 
which we know or apprehend would not be successful. 
It is not, then, till the disposition, inclination, and de- 
sires have thus culminated in a preference or choice 
to try to do, that they have any immediate relation to 
the particular action ; and choice being the knowledge 
(or belief) that one thing suits us better than another, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 147 

this relation is that of a form of knowledge to action ; 
and their prior relation to action generally was through 
the knowledge that effort is the mode of gratifying the 
disposition, inclination, or desire for some change, 
either directly or by a preliminary effort to attain the 
knowledge of the particular mode required to do it. 
By such knowledge, the effort by which we may best 
gratify our want is determined, and the question be- 
tween effort and non-effort decided. 

Referring to the position that all these characteristics 
constitute the being, and make it what it is, there is, 
perhaps, even less appearance of reason to infer neces- 
sity from the conformity of action to the separate ele- 
ments, than was found in such conformity to the gen- 
eral aggregate character. That the present volition, in 
each particular case, is as the present inclination, is 
not only indicative of freedom, but is essential to its 
manifestation ; for any deviation from this would im- 
ply restraint or coercion, preventing us from doing 
(trying being in this case the doing) what of ourselves 
we would do, or compelling us to do what of ourselves 
we would not do. 

The argument of the necessitarians, which has been 
applied to the whole character, as applied to the 
elements of which that character is composed, asserts 
that, as the volition must be in conformity to the dis- 
position, inclination, and desires of the willing being, 
it is controlled or constrained by this necessity, and 
hence is not free. Having- shown that the final rela- 
tion of these affections to action is in the form of 
choice, I may now urge that this argument virtually 
asserts that, as the effort of a being must of neces- 
sity conform to his choice, he is, therefore, necessi- 
tated, and not free in his effort. But this conformity 



148 CA U SAT ION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

to choice, evincing our self-control, is the especial char- 
acteristic of freedom. In doing, we do freely when we 
do as we choose. If walking is the thing to be done, 
we walk freely when we walk as we choose ; when will- 
ing is the thing to be done, we will freely when we 
will as we choose. 

This is, perhaps, the ultimate analysis of those views 
which, in looking at the subject, often lead one to re- 
gard freedom in willing as a truism ; the fact of will- 
ing absolutely implying freedom, the opposite position 
of willing, and yet not willing freely, involving incom- 
patible ideas, and finding expression only in the contra- 
diction of willing when we are unwilling or not willing, 
and, in such aspect of the subject, it seems to require 
some logical entanglement before there can be any ques- 
tion or difficulty to be solved or explained. The ar- 
gument for necessity, thus drawn from the inevitable 
conformity of effort to choice, is in the same line, and 
only one step removed from that in which Edwards 
argues, that a volition cannot be free, because it is sub- 
ject to the willing agent ; which is to say, it is not free 
because it cannot be otherwise than free, or is thus 
subject to the necessity, or constrained to be free. A 
sophism arising out of the vague, loose, and contra- 
dictory ideas, which, in the absence of any definition 
of it, have obtained in regard to mental freedom, to 
which I have already several times alluded. 

While disposition and cognate terms are often used 
as indicating the general or formed character, the term 
habit is exclusively so applied, as when we say a 
man's habits are good, or are bad ; and for this the 
tendency to persist in habits once formed, which I 
have endeavored to account for,^ furnishes good 
ground. 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Cliap. XL 



CAUSA TION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 149 

I have shown that the distinguishing characteristic 
of habitual actions is, that in them we adopt the 
modes we have previously discovered, thereby saving 
ourselves the labor and perplexity of the preliminary 
examination. We thus work by memory, and use the 
knowledge before acquired, instead of seeking new. 
The comparative ease of thus working is an induce- 
ment to adopt the habitual mode, and is an economy 
which greatly facilitates us in action. If we find 
modes still more easy or more beneficial, we adopt 
them ; or when, in our estimation, the chances of find- 
ing such more than compensate for the additional 
effort of seeking them, we make the effort to find 
them. 

Habit is not, then, as some seem to suppose, a mys- 
terious something, which, getting into the mind, be- 
comes there a distinct power or force, inciting, urg- 
ing, or compelling it to act in a given certain pre- 
scribed way, or restraining it in all others, but is itself 
only a result of a reason perceived by the mind for 
adopting a course of action which it has before thought 
out, and which previous experience has made easy, 
and shown to be attended with satisfactory results. It 
is only a name for a particular phase of the general 
relation of knowledge to action. The mind, in such 
cases, still directs its effort to the object by means of 
its knowledge of the mode, which, in such cases, being 
ready formed through memory, can at once be used, 
relieving the mind of the labor of working out a mode 
for the particular occasion. The control of volitions 
attributed to the force of habitual actions, might with 
as much reason be predicated of customary or imita- 
tive actions, in whicii we adopt certain plans or modes 
of action, because we have known other people to do 



160 CA USA TION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

so in like cases ; the only difference being, that in the 
habitual, we have, in similar circumstances, known 
ourselves, and in the customary, have known others 
adopt the mode or plan with satisfactory results. 

That such imitation of the actions of others has not 
been urged against freedom, as well as imitations of 
our own, is probably due to the fact that the former 
have always been well understood, while the latter 
have been involved in doubt and mystery — a fit 
covert for the fancied extrinsic causative power which 
is supposed to produce or control our volitions. 

The reasons against making the general character, 
or the elements of it before mentioned, a distinct 
entity, with power to control the volition of the being 
which they characterize, will generally apply also to 
habit, and with this addition. It is not contended 
that the influence of habit applies to any other than 
habitual actions. Habit is the result of repetition. 
The first action of the kind cannot be habitual, the 
second may be, and when repeated by memory of the 
former act it is so ; and to make habit, which is itself 
formed by this repetition of the actions, the cause of 
the repeated actions is to make the acts collectively 
the cause of themselves Individually, involving the 
position that the collective cases existed prior to the 
individual cases, of which they are themselves com- 
posed. 

I have heretofore shown the influence of habit in 
intensifying our wants, and in removing the hinder- 
ances to our efforts for their gratification.^ It ap- 
pears, then, that this conformity of action to the dis- 
position, inclination, desires, or habits, whether they 
are regarded separately or as combined in the general 

^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Chap. XI, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 151 

character, is, in the last analysis, but the conformity 
of the action of a being to its own notion of what it 
wants to do, and the manner of doing it, which argues 
the self-control and consequent freedom of the willing 
being ; and, on the other hand, that any discrepancy 
of action with the general character of the actor, or 
with any of the elements of it, would indicate that he 
did not control his actions, and was, therefore, not 
free. 

On this point, then, the advocates of necessity seem 
to have taken a position which is against themselves, 
and would have better sustained their ground if they 
could have asserted that the volitions are, or may be, 
in conflict with our dispositions, inclinations, desires, 
and habits, or with the general character of the agent 
willing. 

The influence of '' motive " is much relied upon by 
the advocates of necessity. I have heretofore ^ pointed 
out the vicious circle in which this is applied by Ed- 
wards, first asserting that the will is determined by 
that which influences it ; next, that everything which 
influences the will is a motive ; and then, that a mo- 
tive is anything and everything that influences the 
will. 

The illusion generally seems to be in covertly as- 
suming that the word motive is itself, or that it repre- 
sents, some distinct entity, which has power to influ- 
ence or to determine the mind in willing, and then, 
without pointing out any such entity, reasoning upon 
the assumption that motive is a power distinct from 
the mind that wills. 

Some such definition, and inferences from it, seem 
to have been in Sir William Hamilton's mind, when, 
^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Book II. Chap. X. 



152 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

in his reply to Reid's assertion that motives are not 
cause (which I understand you to quote with appro- 
bation,)^ he says, "Can we conceive any act, of which 
there was not a sufficient cause or concourse of causes, 
why the man performed it, and no other ? If not, 
call this cause, or these concauses, the 7notive^ and 
there is no longer any dispute." 

A change of name cannot alter the facts, or the 
proper inferences from them. A asserts that stones 
will appease hunger. B denies this. A replies, but 
you admit that bread will ; now call the bread stones, 
and there is no longer any dispute. Suppose Reid 
should grant all Sir William Hamilton demands — 
that every act has a cause, and that cause should 
be called motive — and then assert that the active 
being is itself cause of its action ; would there be '' no 
longer a dispute " ? Hamilton seems to think it essen- 
tial to the freedom of the active being that his action 
or effort should not be directed or determined, either 
by the being himself, or by anything else, and in seek- 
ing for something which will correspond to this ex- 
pression, or definition of freedom, is really seeking 
what is self-contradictory ; viz., a being acting freely, 
and yet not controlling its own action. I do not assert 
that the mind's effort springs into existence contin- 
gently, but admit that it always perceives some induce- 
ment to make the effort, and have no objection to call- 
ing this inducement a motive. I agree with you and 
with Hamilton, that a motiveless volition is impossi- 
ble ; but I deem it essential to inquire what this mo- 
tive is, and what its relations to action, before decid- 
ing that it conflicts with freedom. In your enumera- 
tion of the various influences to volition, in the passage 
^ Review of Sir Williain Hamilton, Chap. XXVI. 



CAUSATloy AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 153 

I have quoted, you do not use the word motives^ but 
you evidently apply the phrase ^* moral antecedents " 
as its equivalent, and regard them as constituting the 
motives. Among these, '* desires and aversions " are 
made prominent. Conformably to this, in your work 
on Logic, you speak of a wish as a motive. Desires 
and aversions are not distinct entities, having in them- 
selves power for any purpose, but are merely names, 
indicating certain states of mind ; and, if in these 
states the mind still controls its action, it is then free. 
The mind's state of desire is only one of the elements, 
in a combination of things and circumstances, in the 
perceptions of which, and of their relations, the mind 
jSnds a reason for acting, and for the manner of its 
acting ; but no one of these elements, nor any combi- 
nation of them, can devise the plan of action to reach 
the desired result, or can act it oat when devised. 
This must be done by the intelligent active being 
which perceives the reason, and not by the outward 
conditions, nor by the states of the being, nor by any 
combination of them. To any and all of these, such 
perception of the reason for the action, and of its fit- 
ness to produce the desired effect, is impossible. 

I much doubt, however, if desires or aversions, 
though closely allied to motives as their necessary pre- 
requisites, can themselves be deemed motives. Used, 
generally, as implying formed subsisting characteris- 
tics of the individual, they cannot be so regarded. 
They might exist for any time without moving or 
tending to move to action. That a man's character is 
such that he uniformly desires justice or abhors injus- 
tice, cannot, of itself, induce or produce effort. He 
may also, in the same general sense, and at the same 
time, desire peace and abhor violence, desire beauty 



154 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

and hate deformity, desire nectar and detest tobacco, 
but could not make effort in all the directions indi- 
cated by these multifarious desires and aversions at 
the same time. In regard to the particular desire or 
aversion of the time being, one may desire things to 
remain as they are, and, seeing no liability to change, 
make no effort ; or, desiring change, and seeing that 
it will be effected without his agency, still put forth no 
effort. He may desire an aurora, or have an aversion 
to thunder ; but knowing no mode of procuring the 
one, or of preventing the other, make no effort for 
either purpose ; and until he perceives that he may 
attain the one or avert the other, he can hardly be said 
to have any motive to make an effort to attain or avert. 
In its relation to action, an aversion is equivalent to a 
desire to avoid the object of aversion. And desire, 
which, as before observed, is equivalent to want, does 
not itself produce action, but is one of the passive con- 
ditions to which the mind, by means of its intelligence 
— its knowledge — accommodates its action in seeking 
to obtain the end desired ; and the motive to effort is 
always the mind's expectation of the future effect of 
its effort^ its knowledge^ or belief, that by effort it will 
or may produce the result desired. 

If the preceding analysis is correct, all the rela- 
tions of the affections, including disposition, inclina- 
tion, desires, habits, and motives to effort, are concen- 
trated in knowledge and want. I have before reached 
the same result in regard to the influence of the exter- 
nal conditions, and, from the nature of the subjects, 
having been obliged to so far consider these external 
and internal influences in connection with each other, 
no separate examination of them in combination is 
needed. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 155 

This, then, brings us to the position you have taken 
in the argument which I quoted in my letter on " Cau- 
sation." ^ In the main I accept your statement of my 
position. As you say, I do " allow that volition re- 
quires the previous existence of two things, which the 
mind itself did not make ; at least, not directly, nor in 
most cases at all — a knowledge and a want." I also 
*' admit, not only that the knowledge and want are 
conditions precedent to the will, but that the character 
of the will invariably corresponds to that of the knowl- 
edge and want." Though not, perhaps, important, it 
may be proper for me to say that I would not admit 
" that any variation in either of these determines, or, 
at least, is sure to be followed by, a corresponding 
variation in the volition." If, for instance, I want a 
metal, and know that copper for my purpose is worth 
twice as much as tin, and is just as easily obtained, 
my volition or action would not be altered by learning 
that it was really worth four times as much. I agree 
with you, then, that the volition does invariably cor- 
respond to the prerequisite knowledge and want ; or, 
more strictly speaking, to the mind's knowledge of the 
mode of gratifying its want, but differ with you as to 
this fact being in any way favorable to the argument 
for necessity, or against that for freedom. Thus agree- 
ing in facts so nearly ultimate, and adopting the defi- 
nition I have given of liberty, it would seem that there 
is little room for us to differ, except in the name of 
the resultant fact. I contend that it is properly called 
freedom, for the very essence of freedom in effort 
must lie in a man's not being restrained or constrained 
in trying to do what he wants done, or wants to try to 
do, and in his not being prevented or hindered in thus 

1 Pag-e 1. 



156 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

trying to do, in conformity to his own notion or per- 
ception — to his own knowledge, of the most proper 
mode of doing it. 

It would be a very queer sort of freedom by virtue 
of which a man would or could do, or try to do, what 
■ he did not want to do, or to try to do ; or in the exer- 
cise of which he would or could adopt some mode of 
doing, or of trying to do, which did not conform to his 
own notion or perception of the proper mode — would 
actually try a mode which he did not want to try. 
This would indicate a freedom to be not free. 

The invariability, here admitted, between the voli- 
tion and the mind's antecedent knowledge of what it 
wants, and the means of attaining its object, only indi- 
cates that the conative being invariably conforms its 
effort to its own notion of the mode of attaining" its 
end ; and if in this there is any necessity, it is not a 
necessity that implies any restraint or control of the 
active being, but a necessity growing out of the per- 
fect self-control, whic^h is the essential condition of its 
own freedom — the necessity that free actions must 
invariably be free. 

The act must be so conformed by some cause or 
power. The only essential elements in the case are 
the active being with his knowledge of a mode of 
gratifying his want, and his effort, and the conditions 
to be acted upon and changed. The questions as to 
the control of the conditions, intrinsic or extrinsic, in- 
telligent or unintelligent, have already been disposed 
of. Effort, as before observed, is a state or condition 
of the mind, and not a thing or entity, with the attri- 
bute of power in any form, or which can itself make 
effort, or that has the knowledge to direct itself, or to 
direct effort in anything else, by devising a single 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 157 

mode, or choosing between different modes of trying 
to do, or which can know and conform itself to the 
mind's knowledge of the mode of effort required by 
the existing conditions. As well say N. 20° E. makes 
the hurricane, or causes it to blow from that point, 
when such happens to be its direction or characteris- 
tic. So, also, want and knowledge are states and con- 
ditions of being, and not entities, which themselves 
want and know, or which separately or combined can 
act, devise, or direct action, or know what action will 
conform to the perceptions of the actor as to the 
means of gratifying his want, or that can transform 
themselves into a volition conforming to such percep- 
tion or otherwise. This invariable conformity of the 
volition to the infinite variety of the mind's views 
cannot be the effect of blind, unintelligent force, but 
must be by something which knows the views of the 
willing being, to which the volition is to be conformed, 
and, at the same time, has the power to so conform it. 
It must be the result of some intelligent, designing 
action, intrinsic or extrinsic to the being in which the 
conformity is manifested. To attribute this conform- 
ity directly to the active being itself that wants, and 
that knows the mode of gratifying the want to which 
its action is to be conformed, is natural and simple. 
To suppose that the act is thus conformed by an ex- 
trinsic intelligence involves all the difficulties of the 
first position, and others much greater, for this extrin- 
sic intelligence must itself have a separate want of its 
own — must want to conform the volition of the other 
to that other's views of the mode of acting — must 
itself have a view of some mode of producing this con- 
formity, and a faculty of effort by which it can try to 
produce it. So far, the elements apparently, and in 



158 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

terms, correspond ; but, under the latter hypothesis, 
the causative agent's knowledge must embrace the per- 
ceptions of the other being as to the mode of effort, as 
well as his own, and he must also know some mode of 
controlling the volition of that other being ; and to do 
this directly there is not only no mode experimentally 
known, but none which is conceivable ; and if the 
only mode of doing it indirectly is by first changing 
the knowledge of the willing being, then, the extrinsic 
attempt to so conform the volition involves a change 
in that to which it is to be conformed, which, in this 
case, defeats that conforming of the volition to the 
knowledge which was first attempted, that knowledge 
being changed in the process by which the conforming 
to it is attempted ; and so of any successive attempts. 
In this process the extrinsic intelligent power will al- 
ways be one sfcep short of its object, showing that such 
conforming to the actual existing knowledge, by an 
extrinsic power, in this indirect manner, is also impos- 
sible. 

To illustrate this, let C represent the being whose 
act is to be controlled ; E, the extrinsic agent who is 
to control it ; a'^ the present knowledge of C, to which 
E is to cause C to conform his action. C, with his 
present knowledge, either will not act at all, or will not 
act in conformity to his knowledge a', and to cause 
him to act or to vary his action, some addition must 
be made to his knowledge, so that it will become 
a^ + ^9 ^^^ t^ this, and not to the knowledge a\ the 
action must now be conformed. The only way, then, 
in which this conformity of act to knowledge can be 
thus brought about, is to conform the act, not to the 
existing knowledge, but to it plus the addition to it 
required to cause the being to act, and to direct its 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 159 

action, still further complicating the problem of ex- 
trinsic control. 

As we never commit the blunder of attempting to 
make the act of another conform to his knowledge, 
this difficulty does not practically arise. What we do 
attempt to do, is to change the knowledge or views of 
another, so that the act which he himself conforms to 
it will be as we desire it to be. 

Again : the only ground upon which the volition of 
a being can be supposed to be indirectly affected by 
change of its knowledge is, that such being will itself 
conform its action to its changed knowledge, so that 
this hypothesis of external control, in this mode, still 
involves the necessity of the intrinsic control which it 
was intended to discard or deny„ 

It may be objected that this reasoning assumes that 
the mind does finally determine its own act of will, and 
that its determination can only be altered by changing 
its want and knowledge. But, even if this objection 
is valid, the reasoning still meets your position, which 
virtually is, that the mind does determine its volition, 
but is determined to determine by the pre-existing 
knowledge and want which cause the mind to vary its 
determination or volition, as themselves vary. 

There is this further radical difference between 
intrinsic and extrinsic control, that, under the hypoth- 
esis of intrinsic control, the conformity is consum- 
mated and established by the effort to do^ whether 
successful or not ; whereas, in the case of extrinsic con- 
trol, it is only established when the effort to produce 
the conformity is successful, involving the necessity of 
actual j)oicer to do^ in addition to the ability and the 
knowledge before mentioned to try to do. If the ex- 
trinsic intelligence tried, but failed to do, there would, 



160 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

on the extrinsic hypothesis, be no volition in the mind 
of the other being corresponding to his want and 
knowledge. If these views do not go the whole length 
of proving that the extrinsic hypothesis is absolutely 
inconceivable or impossible, I think 1 may still claim 
that they show that it is absurd to adopt it in prefer- 
ence to the intrinsic, and that we are logically re- 
duced to the necessity of believing that the volition is 
conformed to the want and knowledge, not by any 
extrinsic power or force, but by the willing being him- 
self, and such conforming being, in fact, the control- 
ling or directing of his volition or effort, he in such 
volition or effort acts freely. 

Though the foregoing reasoning seems to me to 
meet your suggestion that the " variation " in the 
knowledge or want '' determines " the volition, and 
that these are not future, but present, or, rather, past 
facts, I would further remark that it already appears 
that it is the intelligent active being that determines, 
in view of its want and of the other conditions ; and 
that even if want and knowledge, into which, so far as 
action is concerned, all past existence is now concen-- 
trated, are regarded as extrinsic to the willing being, 
they are then but extrinsic conditions, in which the 
mind perceives reasons for its action^ and are not 
powers that act ; and further, that the want, thus 
regarded, like other conditions, is influential only as 
recognized or embraced in the mind's view ; and hence, 
in the last analysis, volition is dependent only on the 
mind's knowledge. Knowledge induces effort only 
when it embraces some desirable change to be effected, 
and some mode of action which will effect it — a pre- 
conception of a desirable future effect of its effort. 
This preconception, you truly say, is antecedent to the 



CA USA TION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 161 

volition. But there is, obviously, no power in this 
prophetic knowledge to make an effort or to determine 
its direction. The knowledge or view of the actor as 
to the future effect, which is to him a reason for his 
action, and which always constitutes his sole motive^ is 
only a passive possession or attribute of the being that 
exerts power, and not a thing that of itself has power, 
or that can make or direct effort. The knowledge it- 
self, or the event of knowing, might exist for ages with- 
out producing or determining any volition. 

It has already appeared that it cannot be the past 
events which conform the action to themselves or to 
anything else, or in any wise influence it ; for if the 
memory is in fault, or is so perverted that our recol- 
lections are directly the reverse of what actually 
occurred, our effort vvill be conformed, not to the events 
which did occur, but to our recollection or impression 
/ — our knowledge of them. 

Still, it may be said that this knowledge or belief, 
right or wrong, is the product of past causes, which 
thus in advance determine what course of action the 
mind will adopt in virtue of that knowledge, and of its 
consequent perception of the relation of the effect of 
its action to its want. This point I have already dis- 
cussed, but will here add, that the knowledge being a 
portion of the characteristics which make the being 
what it is, and distinguish it from what it is not, the 
same reasoning which has been applied to the position 
that the character is formed in the past will apply to 
this position also, and especially as it is only by change 
of knowledge that change of character is effected. 
The knowledge, however acquired, is now that of the 
being, and not the possession or attribute of the past ; 
and if it were, there is no conceivable way in which 



162 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

the past could use it to control or direct the action of 
an intelligent being. It is not the facts which have 
existed in the past, nor the fact that they are now 
remembered, but the ability which the being now has 
to anticipate the future, which is an element in the 
direction of its efforts to the end desired ; and it is of 
no consequence when or how it acquired the knowledge 
which is requisite to this ability. The question is not 
how or when the being came to be as he is, with such 
attributes as he has, but still is whether, being such a 
being as he is, he now wills freely. His present per- 
ceptions of what now is, his present memories of the 
past, and his present anticipations of the future, make 
up the sum of his present knowledge ; and if he now 
has a knowledge of the future by which he can and 
does direct his effort wisely and successfully, or other- 
wise, it is of no consequence to his freedom in direct- 
ing, what particular things he knows, or how or when 
his knowledge was acquired. The present relation of 
his knowledge to the control of his effort, whatever that 
knowledge may consist of, or when or how acquired, 
is the same. The fact that, with such knowledge as 
he has, he can direct his effort, is all that is germain 
to the question of self-control or freedom. With the 
changes which are continually taking place, he is, as 
before observed, at every instant, actually acting with 
an aggregate of knowledge, and upon an aggregate of 
conditions, which are the creation of the instant — 
combinations which, as entireties, have had no past. 

As it is the sensuous, knowing, and active being, 
and not the states, conditions, or characteristics, that 
wills, so it is the being that is free in willing. Want, 
to which the susceptibility to feeling is a prerequisite, 
is a necessary condition to the being's effort ; for with- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 163 

out it there would be no occasion, need, or use for 
effort, and, as the subject of the mind's knowledge 
of what will gratify its want, it is essential to such 
knowledge. 

A perception or knowledge of some object of effort, 
and of some mode of attaining it, is also a prerequisite 
of effort. All the distinguishing characteristics of in- 
telligent active being are thus involved, as essential 
elements of its free effort ; and want and knowledge, 
instead of hindering or militating against freedom of 
effort in the being to whom they pertain, are, in fact, 
the very things which make such freedom possible. 

The illusion, that the relation of want and knowl- 
edge to effort indicates necessity, seems to arise from 
attributing the determination or control of the voli- 
tion itself, or the determination of the being to the 
volition, to some atti'ibutes or conditions of the being, 
and then reasoning either as though these attributes 
were powers extrinsic to the being, or as if the being's 
own control of its efforts were incompatible with its 
freedom in making them. It is not any one of these 
attributes or states of being, nor any combination of 
them, but the conative intelligent being of which they 
are states or attributes, and of which they are the dis- 
tinguishing characteristics, which feels, knows, and 
acts. 

We know the being only by the characteristics 
which distinguish it from other existences, as we know 
matter only by its properties ; and to attribute the ac- 
tion of intelligent being to its susceptibility to feeling 
or its capacity for knowledge, or even to its faculty of 
effort, is analogous to asserting that it is the mobility, 
extension, and impenetrability of matter, and not mat- 
ter itself, that moves. 



164 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Whatever theory we adopt as to the substratum of 
matter or of spirit, it is still the matter that moves 
and the spirit that acts. If there be no substratum, 
then matter is only a combination of its sensible pro- 
perties, and mind a like combination of feeling, 
knowledge, and will. If the hypothesis of no sub- 
stratum be admitted, it must also be admitted that it 
is this combination of sensible properties that moves, 
and this combination of the attributes of spirit that 
makes effort. If we adopt my view, that matter, with 
all extrinsic phenomena, merely indicates that large 
class of our sensations which we find we cannot change 
at will,^ then it is a certain change in these sensa- 
tions which constitutes its motion ; or if, as you say, 
matter is only a '' permanent possibility of sensation," 
then motion must be a perception of some change in 
this permanent possibility. 

As the combinations are things distinguished from 
the individual elements of which they are composed, 
at least by relations of the elements which do not per- 
tain to any of them separately, we may denote the 
different combination of characteristics by distinguish- 
ing names ; and if, in the ultimate division into only 
two classes, we call one of them matter, and the other 
spirit, no logical or practical difficulty arises from the 
hypothesis that matter and spiritual being are merely 
combinations of these respective properties and attri- 
butes, by which alone we know them, without any sepa- 
rate substratum of existence. This combination of 
spiritual attributes, without any substratum, would 
still combine all the essential elements for self-action 
by effort, and for the direction of the effort. Indeed, 
my argument, asserting that the sway or control of 
1 Freedom of Mind in Willing, Chap. TI. 



CA US ATI ON AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 165 

the will, which is imputed to the influence of the char- 
acteristics, is really the influence of the being charac- 
terized, would be strongest upon the hypothesis that 
these characteristics or attributes in fact constitute 
the being, without any substratum whatever. If we 
suppose a substratum which is not itself a character- 
istic, or even a substratum whose only characteristic 
or property is that of a nucleus in which the attri- 
butes of being may inhere, which enters into no 
influential relations with the inhering attributes, the 
case would not be materially altered ; and if this 
substratum is itself a characteristic, then the being is 
still wholly made up of its characteristics, and exists 
as it is only as a combination of its characteristics : 
thus, upon either hypothesis, equally sustaining and 
supporting my position, that the determination of a vo- 
lition by the character is, in fact, the determination by 
the willing being. Is it conceivable that a substratum 
can be anything more than a characteristic^ which 
pertains in many individuals otherwise distinguished 
from each other ? How^ever this may be, it is evi- 
dent that we know nothing of such substratum, and 
can only reason upon the properties which w^e do 
know ; and no argument can go back of that which 
rests on those properties. 

In some respects. Extension, in its relation to mat- 
ter, seems most nearly to fulfil the conditions of our 
notions of a substratum. It is that which universally 
and inevitably remains when all its other properties 
— we might perhaps say when all its properties — are 
annihilated. But the void space — the extended 
vacuum — cannot be the essence of matter, nor, ex- 
cept by contrast w^ith its negation, aid us to any con- 
ception of what it is in itself. 



166 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

It is in the distinction that knowledge is not an ac- 
tive power that wills or that controls the will, but only 
a passive possession or attribute of a conative being, 
by which it directs its power in effort, and in a similar 
distinction touching the other elements of character, 
that my views diverge from yours ; yours leading to 
the conclusion that our efforts are links in a uniform 
chain of events, each of which is successively deter- 
mined to be as it is by some causative power in those 
which precede it, and mine to the very different result, 
that only the circumstances, intrinsic and extrinsic, 
under or upon, or in view of which, the being acts, are 
thus determined by prior causes (including its own 
prior action), but that the being, with its knowledge 
and characteristics, in view of the circumstances in- 
cluding its own preconception of the effect, must of 
itself make and determine its own effort, without be- 
ing first acted upon by any extrinsic power or force, 
and hence that such being, in virtue of its knowledge 
and inherent activity, is an independent, self-active 
power in the universe, freely putting forth its own 
isolated power to cooperate with or to counteract any 
or all other powers, and thus to vary the combined 
effects of all causes extrinsic to himself, and of him- 
self, without the prior action of any extrinsic compel- 
ling power upon him, beginning and directing his 
efforts to create the future, and make it different from 
what, but for his individual effort, it would have been. 
And this result, that every being that wills is of itself, 
in virtue of its inherent characteristics, an indepen- 
dent power — a Creative First Cause — in its sphere, 
however limited, as individually and as freely doing 
its part to create the future as superior intelligences 
in their larger sphere, or as God in the infinite, I 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 107 

deem in itself and in its consequences the most im- 
portant involved in the discussion.^ In this view, 
every intelligent being, in its own sphere of knowl- 
edge, is elevated to the position of an independent 
sovereign power in the universe, with all its preroga- 
tives and duties, all its powers, and all its responsi- 
bilities. 

The argument from the '' possibility of prediction " 
remains to be considered. In replying to the reason- 
ing of Edwards upon the foreknowledge of God, I 

^ 111 speaking of ' ' moral antecedents ' ' and ' ' outward circum- 
stances ' ' in the passag e I have quoted at page 129, I supposed you 
intended to include all the prerequisite conditions to volition. In the 
same sentence, you speak of the former as "internal." This gave me 
the impression that you also classified all the elements either as * ' in- 
ternal " or " outward." In such classification it seemed to me so clear 
that our knowledge must be classed with the internal, that I regarded 
your omission to include it in the enumeration of them as uninten- 
tional. But in the following passage you distinctly assert that our 
knowledge is external^ and place it, in this respect, in direct antithesis 
to our desires and aversions. " When we think of ourselves hypothet- 
ically as having acted otherwise than we did, we always suppose a 
difference in the antecedents ; we picture ourselves as having known 
something that we did not know, or not known something that we did 
know, which is a difference in the external motives ; or as having desired 
something, or disliked something, more or less than we did ; which is a 
difference in the internal motives.''^ (Review of Sir William Hamilton, 
Chapter XXVI.) The Italics are mine. Though I had read this pas- 
sage, I did not observe that it thus classed our knowledge till after I 
had concluded the whole argument. The question whether our knowl- 
edge is, in fact, internal or external to us, seems to me so far ultimate 
as to admit of no argument. Each one must determine it for himself, 
as each one must determine for himself what is sweet and what bitter. 
However little reason your general accuracy leaves for such assump- 
tion, I cannot but think that in this case you have inadvertently ap- 
plied expressions to our knowledge, when you had the objects of knowl- 
edge in mind, and that these happened to be external and not internal 
phenomena. Be this as it may, it seems useless to offer any proof 
upon this fundamental point, and I therefore leave my argument as it 
is, interpolating this explanation here, and remarking that the same 
point arises in the reasoning upon prescience which follows. 



168 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

sought to meet him upon his own ground, and show 
that if there was any necessary incompatibility of 
Divine prescience with man's freedom in willing, he 
had, of these two alternatives, elected not to foreknow 
our volitions, and that the position taken by Edwards 
that such foreknowledge is essential to the Supreme 
governing power is not tenable. In opposition to his 
views, I then urged that a Being of infinite wisdom 
does not require time to prepare in advance for what 
may arise, but can perceive at the instant what action 
is best ; and further, that, if this preparation were 
necessary, such a Being could anticipate every possible 
combination of conditions, and determine in advance 
what his action in each should be. I then reserved 
the question as to whether a free volition could not be 
foretold as well as one not free, and also as to God's 
power, or the power of any intelligent being, to influ- 
ence a future free volition, thus making it more or less 
certain that it would take place, and of course subject 
to be foreknown with a corresponding degree of cer- 
tainty. 

I propose now to include these questions in the dis- 
cussion. The phrase '' possibility of prediction," of 
itself might be taken to mean that the prediction of a 
future event may possibly turn out to be true, or, that 
things might possibly be so constituted that future 
events could be predicted ; for instance, a being with 
power to produce a future event could predict such 
event, provided he decided to exert his power to pro- 
duce it. If he never exerted such power, this ability 
to predict would never actually exist ; but as he could 
exert it, such ability would still, to him, be possible. 
I, however, understand you to mean that, as things 
now are, the elements essential to such prediction exist, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 169 

and that it is, therefore, always within the bounds of 
possibility, I have already urged that our voluntary 
actions, at least in most cases, are predicated upon our 
prophetic anticipations, expectations, or conjectures of 
what other causative agents will do, or tend to do, in- 
cluding the action of other intelligent beings by Will. 
This involves the necessity of prescience more or less 
reaching and reliable, as a prerequisite of such volun- 
tary actions. So far, then, we agree that we have 
sufficient confidence in our predictions or expectations 
of the future volitions of others to make them the 
foundation of action ; and I hope to show that this, or 
even any degree of certainty in such predictions, is 
consistent with the hypothesis of freedom in willing. 
If I understand your argument, it is that the possi- 
bility of predicting a volition proves that volition is 
subject to the same law of uniformity of cause and 
effect as physical events, which are compelled by their 
causes, and hence not free. Admitting this, how does 
it conflict with my position that the volition or effort 
is itself the causal action of an intelligent being ? The 
" law of cause and effect," at best, only asserts that 
the effect of the action of its cause is necessitated, not 
that the causal action is constrained. Or if any one 
insists that volition or effort is not merely the action 
of cause, but is itself an effect of such action, then, in 
reference to the freedom of the being in which it is 
manifested, the question still arises, does this being, as 
a cause, control its own volition ? The analogy to the 
action of any mechanical causes and their effects might 
indicate that the volition itself, as a distinct entity or 
a mere effect, is not free, but not that the action of its 
cause is not free, and merelv carries us back to the 
questions as to whether the intelligent being is the 



170 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

cause of its own volitions, and is a cause which can act 
without being first acted upon and determined in its 
action or volition by some extrinsic power or cause. 
These questions I have already considered. In regard 
to material phenomena, we count upon their uni- 
formity, in most cases, with great confidence. If we 
see two solid bodies approaching each other from op- 
posite directions, we know that some change must take 
place when they meet. This is a necessity which 
might be anticipated without experience ; for without 
it we should know that both cannot occupy the same 
space ; that two extensions cannot be one extension ; 
that two cannot be one. If every material phenom- 
enon were individually of this character, we could 
predict it from its antecedents without any knowledge 
of actual occurrences of the same kind. But however 
true the general proposition that, in the case stated, 
some change must take place, the necessity does not, 
even in it, apply to any particular change embraced in 
the phrase ^' some change." 

Experience teaches us that one or both the bodies 
are uniformly arrested in their course ; but there is no 
reason to suppose that this is from an absolute neces- 
sity. It is not a result which we could have reached 
a priori^ for it is quite conceivable that the effect of 
the collision might uniformly be, that the particles of 
each would spread and pass through among those of 
the other, each resuming its original form and motion 
on the opposite side ; or that each should revolve 
around the other, and so continue, as some twin stars 
do, or each resume its original track when it reached 
it ; or that greater or less portions, or all of one or 
both, might be scattered in any of the infinite number 
of directions in space. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 171 

If these various modes are in themselves equally 
conceivable and possible, then, admitting that some 
change must of necessity occur, we still want some di- 
recting power to determine among these possible 
changes, and by its own unvaried action produce the 
observed uniformity. The actual uniformity, in such 
cases, of itself indicates either that the particular uni- 
form result must be attributed to blind force, which, 
acting of necessity, cannot vary its action or its conse- 
quences ; or to an intelligent percipient power acting 
either with design to produce such uniformity, or for 
the reason that it deems such particular action in itself 
always better than any other, or than inaction.^ 

In seeking to look into the future, we do not usually 
even attempt to determine the primary cause of the 
order of succession. It is not, then, from any per- 
ceived inherent necessity in the case, but from the uni- 
formity of our experience, that we anticipate that one 
or both of the solid bodies moving directly towards 
each other will be arrested in its course ; and the same 
in other like cases of material phenomena. The cause 
of this uniformity is not essential to our foreknowl- 
edge and prediction of the event ; nor do we usually 
seek the cause for this object. 

^ Tre arg-ument for design derives no preponderance from the uni- 
form repetition of any one set of events, however often they may 
occur in the same order. That the sun rises every morning no more 
proves design as against the hypothesis of blind mechanical force or 
movement than its first rising did, for each successive rising may be 
attributed to such force or movement as well as the first. Such pre- 
ponderance is only acquired when the design is manifested in various 
cases, not in themselves connected with each other, indicating an 
agency of more extended presence, both in time and space, than the 
blind forces, acting only on the occasion of the moment, and at the 
particular points of pressure or collision, in which these only can act, 
without reference to future or to distant events. 



172 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

If, as I have contended,^ this uniformity of the 
changes in matter is not from an inherent necessity, 
but results from the uniform mode of the acting of an 
Intelligent Being upon it, then the problem of the 
prediction of these changes becomes the same in kind 
as that of predicting the sequences of the volitions or 
efforts of other intelligent beings. 

If the Being, whose power is thus manifested in the 
material phenomena of the universe, is in fact Omni- 
scient, then his action is not liable to be varied by any 
changfe in his knowledofe. He will have no occasion 
to try experiments, or to adopt any other than those 
best modes of action which he knows in the first as 
well as in subsequent cases. 

Freely conforming his action to his perfect knowl- 
edge of the circumstances, and what they require, — 
i. e., himself so conforming, — his action is always the 
most wise. If some other being with less knowledge, 
or some force with no knowledge at all, controlled his 
action, there would be no reason to presume that it 
would be uniformly consistent with perfect wisdom, 
and this ground of prediction is availing only in case 
the actor controls his own act of will, i. e., acts freely. 
We have here, then, two means of predicting the ac- 
tion of an omniscient being. 1. If we know in ad- 
vance what action will be most wise, we can foreknow 
that this will be his action, and, without any experi- 
ence, predict it. 2. If we do not know in advance 
what action will be most wise, then our observation in 
a single case reveals it to us, and we can thence pre- 
dict what this action will be in all like cases. This 
conformity of action to the knowledge of an omniscient 

1 Freedom of Mind in Willing, Book I. Chap. XII., and Book II. 
Chap. XII. and XIII. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 173 

being, in whom knowledge admits of no change, and 
action of no deviation from the wisest mode, by neces- 
sary consequence, produces the most perfect uni- 
formity ; and as this uniformity is a consequence only 
of the self-controlled or free volition and correspond- 
ing action of such a being, and would not be a neces- 
sary result of its unfree volitions, or of volitions con- 
trolled by some less perfect extrinsic intelligence, the 
uniformity in the volitions or actions of such being, 
and the consequent possibility of predicting them, 
argues freedom, and not necessity. 

In regard to the first of these two means of fore- 
knowinof the action of omniscience, it is obvious that 
there may be cases in which two or more modes are 
equally wise; and I have suggested that there may 
also be other cases in which the advantages of variety 
may more than compensate for a departure from that 
mode which, in itself, is best, and further, that such 
might more especially, or more frequently, be the case, 
but that uniformity in the action of the Infinite is 
essential to free agency in finite being ; and hence, 
from this uniformity, which, in the form of the doc- 
trine that the same causes of necessity produce the 
same effects, has been much relied upon to prove 
necessity, I have drawn an argument from final causes 
in favor of the existence of the free agency, for which 
such provision is thus made.^ 

Both these means rest upon the assumption that the 
Being is in fact omniscient, and that he wills freely, 
the first more especially on the premise that such a 
Being will always do w^hat is most wise, while the sec- 
ond is founded on the immutability of tliat knowledge 
which admits of no addition or diminution. As bear- 
1 Freedom of Mind in Willing^ pp. 131 and 379. 



174 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ing upon this I have suggested that God, even if he 
could foreknow the volitions of finite conative beings, 
may have chosen to limit his own knowledge, and not 
to foreknow them ; and hence, such volitions, as they 
actually occur, may become additions to his knowledge, 
and the occasions of corresponding variations in his 
action. I have, however, also endeavored to show 
that all these variations may still be embraced in gen- 
eral rules of action in a more extended and complex 
uniformity,^ and that our efforts to ascertain the laws 
of nature, by which we are enabled to predict the re- 
currence of physical events, are only efforts to learn 
the uniform modes of God's action in reference to 
them. Even though there is a sphere in which his ac- 
tions may be varied by that of other free agents, still 
there is a large material domain, in which he may act 
as a sole first cause, and in which his action is not 
liable to be varied by increase of knowledge. For 
predicting the volitions of finite intelligences, we can 
neither count in advance upon their being perfectly 
wise, nor upon invariability in their knowledge, and 
hence the difficulties in predicting the volitions of such 
which do not pertain to the Infinite. Their knowl- 
edge being always liable to change, the action in con- 
formity to it may also change when all other conditions 
are the same ; and hence no uniformity with these 
other conditions can be relied upon. At the lower 
end of the scale of conate intelligence there may be 
beings with so little ability to add to that innate knowl- 
edge, which is the basis of their instinctive action, 
that there is little chance of its varying ; and in these 
we may count with great, yet not with entire, certainty 
upon the uniformity of their efforts, for though the 

1 Freedom of Mind in Willing, Book II. Chap. XI. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 175 

change of knowledge in such may be both slow and 
infrequent, so long as the little sphere of what they 
know is bounded by what they do not know, the exten- 
sion of it is possible. To some extent, then, the diffi- 
culty of predicting the volition of a being increases 
with the ability of that being to acquire knowledge. 

It may also increase with this actual deficiency in 
wisdom ; and it not unfrequently happens, when 7iew 
conditions require new plans by the actor, that the 
greater his ignorance, the greater the difficulty of pre- 
dicting what he will do. Any superior knowledge as 
to what is most wise does not iielp one to predict what 
the unwise will do. So far, then, as relates to knowl- 
edge alone, as an element of prediction, there is no 
reason to suppose that Omniscience can foreknow the 
volitions of finite beings more certainly than beings of 
finite knowledge can, and it seems, at least in some 
respects, true that the greater the difference between 
two beings, the greater will be the difficulty of either 
predicting the course of the other. 

In regard to many future events, we may have the 
power directly to bring them to pass, and hence may 
be able to predict them ; but if I succeed in showing 
that a volition in one being directly produced by an- 
other, involves a contradiction in idea, and is impos- 
sible in fact, then even Omniscience could not thus 
foreknow a volition. Our power indirectly to influence 
the volitions of others, I will consider hereafter. 

There are many cases in which one being acting as 
a sole cause on the existing conditions, without inter- 
ference from other conative being, can predict the 
events which he has the power to produce ; but this can 
never occur in regard to the volition of another, for 
the action of this other is necessarily involved in the 



176 CA USA riON AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

premises, as otherwise no such volition could even be 
conceived of, much less predicted, and the case does 
not admit of the action of a sole cause. The nearest 
conceivable approach to it is that of one cause pro- 
ducing the action of the other cause ; and this in the 
case of volition, it has been shown, can only be done 
through change in the knowledge of this other, which 
again is effective only through his freely conforming 
his action to his changed knowledge. 

I introduce these considerations to bring into view 
some of the difficulties which are peculiar to the pre- 
diction of a volition, and am aware I do not thus meet 
your argument, which rests not on any degree of ease 
or difficulty in actually predicting, but on the " possi- 
bility of prediction ; " and I admit that an argument 
founded on an ascertained possibility of evolving the 
knowledge of a future volition from what is known in 
the present, or even on what now exists or is known to 
have existed, would be as availing as if founded on 
actual predictions ever so easily and universally made. 

In any plane triangle, two sides and their included 
angle being given, the third side is thereby determined, 
and may be known without a resort to its actual meas- 
urement. It, in fact, is of necessity made to be one 
certain length and no other, whether we are able to 
ascertain that length from the data or not. The diam- 
eter of a circle determines the length of the circumfer- 
ence, and it is not the less thereby determined, and 
made to be exactly what it is, because no one can 
actually tell or express in terms the exact length ; the 
actual controlling dependence of the one upon the other 
is not changed by this incidental practical difficulty. 

No human being might be able to tell on what spot 
a ball, thrown from the hand upon a tract covered with 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 177 

small hillocks, would eventually rest; but still the 
force and direction of the throw, and the shape and 
nature of the surface over which it subsequently passes, 
do determine it, of necessity, to one particular spot, 
and to no other, and thus in some sense involve the 
possibility of the foreknowledge of that spot, though 
we may be unable actually to work out the problem. 

I understand your ground to be that prediction of 
volition is possible, and that this, even without actual 
experience of the fact, proves that a future volition is 
dependent upon something now or previously existing 
as its cause, and that, as the same cause produces the 
same effect, the effect of this preexisting cause must 
be one certain future volition, which being probably 
this, and no other, the necessary effect or consequence 
of the action of this cause must exclude subsequent 
freedom in the willing being. 

I say, '' without actual experience," because I 
think, upon your own statements, as well as in point 
of fact, the exceptions to our actual ability to predict 
the volition of another are so numerous, — I might, 
perhaps, say the cases in which we can do it are com- 
paratively so few, — that experience does not prove 
that such prediction is always " possible." 

The argument in this view seems to be open to the 
objection that the necessary dependence of the volition 
upon its antecedents is assumed to prove the " possi- 
bility of prediction," and then the " possibility of pre- 
diction " is taken to prove the necessary dependence 
upon which its own proof is rested. Though the posi- 
tions I have asserted make it, at least in most cases, 
essential to the proper design and efficacy of our own 
efforts, that in determining them we should have pre- 
conceptions of the future volitions of some others act- 



178 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 

iiig in the same sphere, and effecting changes in the 
same conditions upon which we are about to act, and 
which will be simultaneous with our own contemplated 
effects, and in many cases also of those still subse- 
quent volitions of others which are relied upon to 
extend or otherwise vary the sequences of our own 
action, I have not held that these preconceptions or 
prophetic anticipations of these volitions, or of the 
sequences of them, are, or can be, infallible. If they 
were, and all changes in matter are the result of in- 
telligent efforts, — infinite or finite, — we should only 
have to add certain knowledge of the relation of our 
own efforts to that of these others to make us capable 
of acting with perfect wisdom. The fact, I think, is, 
that we oftener err in our own efforts from being mis- 
taken as to what others will do, than from any other 
or all other causes. I think you will agree with me 
that experience does not warrant any certain reliance 
upon such anticipations of the volitions of others. I 
understand you to assign as a reason for this our im- 
perfect knowledge of the antecedents, and virtually to 
assert that we can attain certainty in the prediction of 
volitions '' when we have sufficient knowledge of the 
circumstances." This may be true if we know all the 
antecedents up to the moment of volition, including 
the determination of the willing being as to what 
effect he will seek to produce, and by what effort he 
will try to produce it : ^ that, at this point, we can al- 
ways predict the volition, is because the volition must 
or does always conform to the determination, i, e., 
if the being has itself determined, because the being 
has itself determined its own volition. Such predic- 

^ For the proof that such final decision is not itself the volition, see 
Freedom of Mind, etc., p. 60. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 179 

tion is really founded upon and proves the freedom of 
the agent in willing, and of course furnishes no ground 
for inferring a want of fieedom, but the contrary. 

Those who use this argument from the '^ possibility 
of prediction " cannot intend to assert that the future 
volition as an isolated fact, which as yet is not, can be 
directly known, as a present existing thing, which al- 
ready is, and which may have always existed, and had 
no antecedents, may be. No such prescience is experi- 
mentally known to us, and perhaps none is conceiv- 
able ; and if a future volition could be thus known, 
this fact would ignore its necessary connection with 
its antecedents, which is inferred from the possibility 
of prediction, and urged as proof of the necessity of the 
predicted volition; and besides, such foreknowledge 
would obviously apply to one event as well as to an- 
other — to a free volition, or even to a volition spring- 
ing into existence of itself, without any connection 
with any antecedent, or with any being, power, or 
force w^hatever, as well as to a volition necessitated by 
its connection with its antecedents. No such connec- 
tion could be necessary to such prescience, and no such 
could therefore be inferred from it, or even from the 
prediction which, if possible, would prove the exist- 
ence of suoh prescience. In such case the prescience 
would obviously have no other relation to the future 
volition than that of knowledge to the thing immedi- 
ately known, which does not indicate how such thing 
came to be. It could not indicate whether the voli- 
tion was, or would be, caused by the being in which 
it was manifested, or by something extrinsic to that 
being, nor even whether the volition produced itself. 
The argument, to avail, then, must assert that the 
" possibility of prediction " is proof of such an invari- 



180 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

able connection of the future event, volition, with the 
antecedent conditions now present, or now known, 
that it may be presumed to be dependent upon these 
as its cause. If this connection is broken, there is no 
ground for such presumption. But the mind's final 
determination as to its effort, above alluded to, must 
be one of the links in this connection ; and that we 
can predict the act of will from knowing this last link 
connecting with it, as above stated, can be only be- 
cause the mind, by this decision, does inevitably con- 
trol its own volition, and hence is free in such volition ; 
and if, on the other hand, we can predict it without 
knowing this link, then its connection with antecedent 
causes, which was inferied from the possibility of pre- 
diction, because such connection was supposed to be 
essential to such possibility, can no longer be so in- 
ferred, for the prediction is made without reference 
to it, and the argument for necessity, founded upon 
that dependence of the volition upon its antecedents, 
which was inferred from the possibility of prediction, 
wholly fails. 

It appears, then, that if the prediction is a direct 
prescience of a future volition as an isolated fact in 
time, it does not indicate necessity ; and that when it 
becomes possible only by its connection with the pres- 
ent, as the last link in this connection is the mind's 
own determination as to its effort, the fact of such 
possibility, then, depends upon the mind's self-control, 
and favors freedom. In view of these positions, the 
argument for necessity must recede a step, and show 
that the determination of the mind to a certain effort 
or volition is controlled by those antecedent conditions 
or circumstances, the knowledge of which is supposed 
to afford the means for predicting the determination, 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 181 

and through it the volition — that the mind, as you 
and Sir William Hamilton seem to agree, is thus '' de- 
termined to determine." 

There seems to me good reason for at least a doubt 
as to whether the foreknowledge of the future deter- 
mination of an intelligent being is always possible — 
whether, as in the case of the plane triangle, in which 
only two sides, without the included angle, are given, 
there are not cases in which the data are insufficient, 
and from the nature of the case necessarily so. I have 
already remarked that in regard to Oumiscience there 
may be two or more modes of action just equally 
wise ; so, in regard to finite agents, there may be two 
or more modes which to them, with their limited, 
knowledge, appear in all respects to suit them equally 
well. In such cases there can be no connection of the 
final determination with any antecedents by which it 
could be foreknown, for there is none with which the 
decision or determination is connected as a conse- 
quence ; and even if there is usually a chain of events 
firmly linked with each other, the recurrence of these 
cases, which must be arbitrarily decided, breaks the 
chain, and a new series is begun. It is not essential 
to this result that the two or more cases should, in 
fact, be exactly equal, nor yet that the active agent 
should be absolutely unable to discover any ground of 
choice between them, but only that, during the time 
he allots to the preliminary examination, he does not, 
in fact, discover any such ground, and determines with- 
out doing so. 

Looking at the phenomena more generally, and ex- 
cluding those vague notions of the direct perception of 
a future event as an isolated fact, which, for reasons 
before stated, may now be eliminated from the argu- 



182 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ment touching freedom or necessity, the only mode in 
which any future event may be known is by means of 
its ascertained connection of dependence with some- 
thing which now is. The future determination of a 
being cannot be tlius directly dependent upon things 
and events extrinsic to it, for, as before observed, 
whenever the view of the mind differs from the exist- 
ing facts, the determination conforms to the view, and 
not to the facts. Hence it is only as these extrinsic 
things and events affect the knowledge of the agent 
that his determination is affected, and this knowledge, 
of necessity, becomes a channel through which the 
prediction of the final determination must be sought. 
If we know the views or knowledge of the actor, in- 
cluding that of his own wants, and the relations of his 
knowledge to them, and know this up to the instant of 
determining, so that there can be no change, we should 
have the data essential to predict his determination. 
But is such knowledge in advance possible in the case ? 
If not, then we must be deficient in an essential ele- 
ment of prediction. The final determination itself is 
not yet fixed by the conditions, and no prediction from 
the antecedents is yet possible. With this deficiency 
in the data the problem is analogous to that of know- 
ing only two sides of a triangle without the included 
angle, in which case no amount or perfection of intel- 
ligence could ascertain the third side ; it is not fixed 
nor determined by the data, and the variety of lengths 
which will fulfil the conditions is infinite. 

That a volition is always a new power thrown in to 
break any connection there may be between the past 
or present causative agencies and their future effect, 
and make the future different from what this connec- 
tion undisturbed would make it, and also that volition. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 183 

is the beginning of accion, or of a new series of ac- 
tion, requiring no past, but only present conditions to 
be changed, and future object to be attained, both in- 
dicate that there is no such necessary connection of 
the volition with the past, nor of its dependence upon 
it, as can afford a ground for predicting it, or the de- 
termination of the mind of which it is the immediate 
consequence. The peculiar difficulty of predicting the 
future event, volition, or determination of the mind 
to it, arises from its being dependent upon the knowl- 
edge of the agent, w^hich is a variable element, liable 
to be changed in the very process of determining what 
the volition shall be. In the instinctive and habitual 
actions, as also in the customary or iuiitative, in which, 
following modes already known and with which we are 
satisfied, we do not seek any new knowledge to guide 
or determine our efforts, prediction is most reliable ; 
but even in these cases, as already suggested, the addi- 
tions to our knowledge by mere passive observation 
and perception may at any time, as experience shows, 
change our views, and induce a departure from the 
accustomed modes of action. 

In all other cases we seek by a preliminary effort to 
find the proper mode of acting ; i, e., we seek more 
knowledge for the purpose of determining our volition ; 
which is to say, that in the very act of determining we 
change the knowledge upon which the prediction of 
this determination, and of the consequent volition, is 
based, and the changes which may thus take place in 
this element, in and by the very process of determining, 
are infinite. 

The case in this aspect seems to be analogous to 
what we would witness, if, instead of the results which 
uniformly attend the collision of two solid bodies, a 



184 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

variety of effects, such as those before mentioned as 
conceivable in the case, with others which might be 
added without limit, sometimes one and sometimes 
others, should follow \Yithout any uniformity, the col- 
lision itself in each individual case determining the 
sequence, without any reference or relation to other 
like cases ; under these circumstances, prediction of the 
sequence of collision would be impossible, the data 
being insufficient. Again, in these cases of rational 
actions — actions in which we devise a mode and make 
preliminary effort to obtain the knowledge to do it — 
this preliminary effort is a connecting link between the 
present conditions and our final determination, which 
will depend upon the result of this preliminary effort 
or volition ; and to assume that we can foreknow this 
result again begs the question as to prescience of the 
determination of that volition, and something more, 
viz., the result of that volition, i. e., the failure or suc- 
cess of the effort for change, thus involving another 
very uncertain element. Again, what knowledge he 
will acquire by his own preliminary effort must often 
depend upon the results of the volitions of others, as it 
also does when one is passively waiting to see what 
others will do before he determines what to do him- 
self, in both cases making the foreknowledge of these 
volitions of others and of their sequences an essential 
element of the prediction of this final determination of 
his own volition ; and to assert the possibility of such 
prediction, by himself or by others as before, assumes 
that a volition and its sequences may be foreknown. 
Further, to illustrate the necessary deficiency of the 
data for predicting the future determination of a voli- 
tion, suppose A seeks to foreknow the future volition 
of B. It is admitted that A will determine that voli- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 185 

tlon, and this determination B now seeks to foreknow. 
It is also admitted that this determination of A will 
conform to his own knowledge or notion of what at 
the time of his determining will suit him best, and it is 
through the present knowledge of A that B seeks to 
foreknow A's future determination. But A cannot pos- 
sibly know more of the present knowledge of B than B 
himself knows, and B is yet undetermined, and of course 
does not know what his own determination will be ; the 
chain does not reach to the end desired. A may be 
more able to infer from all the facts what B, with his 
knowledge, should determine ; but it is not the infer- 
ence of A with his superior ability, but that of B with 
his less ability, that is to decide the matter. To say 
that A may be more able to infer what B's determina- 
tion ivill be than B himself is, and hence can infer or 
know it sooner than B does, begs the question, asserting 
that B's determination may be foreknown, and further, 
that it may be so foreknown before the connection be- 
tween it and the present known is completed — before 
B has himself determined or knows that upon which 
his determination depends. These considerations point 
to the conclusion that the difficulties which arise from 
a volition being dependent upon our knowledge, which, 
np to the very instant of determining the volition, is 
liable to change and to be changed by the very process 
of determining, are insuperable, and could not be over- 
come by any amount or perfection of intelligence. 
But, be this as it may, every attempt of A to reach the 
determination of B by its connection with the present 
must be through the knowledge of B to which it is 
conformed, and must assume that the last step in the 
process will be the so conforming it by B ; and whetlier 
always this conforming by B is an indispensable con- 



186 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

dition or consequence of his acting freely, or is a result 
of extrinsic coercion, makes no difference to the sus- 
ceptibility or possibility of predicting the consequent 
act, and, hence, does not touch the question of freedom 
or necessity in this act. 

In another view we reach a similar result. I have 
before remarked that the interference of any causa- 
tive power with our freedom in willing is in no wise 
affected by the uniformity of its action ; that it is just 
as perfect in the first instance as at any subsequent 
time, and would be just as much an interference if it 
varied its action at each recurrence. 
^ The coercive element of such cause, if any, which 
alone interferes with our freedom, does not aid us in 
foreknowing the coerced volition, and a subsequently 
ascertained uniformity is the sole ground of the predic- 
tion. Hence, conversely, the prediction can only indi- 
cate uniformity in this causative action, and not its 
interference with our freedom. 

The foregoing reasoning goes to prove that neces- 
sity is not an element in the prediction of a future voli- 
tion, and hence that such necessity is not to be inferred 
from the " possibility of prediction," or even from act- 
ual prediction. I may perhaps go farther than this, 
and assert that freedom is an elenient of those anticipa- 
tions, expectations, and conjectures of the volitions of 
others, which we more or less rely upon in determining 
our own actions. 

The main peculiar difficulty in predicting a volition 
increases with a liability to change in the knowledge 
of the active agent. 

We place implicit reliance upon the uniformity of 
God's action ; and in the case of an inferior animal, 
with little or no ability to add to its innate knowl- 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 187 

edge, if we know its wants and its opportunities for 
gratifying them, we count with great certainty upon 
its instinctive effort. The difficulty lessens at either 
extreme of intelligence, because in these the liability 
to change of knowledge is less. 

It is greater in man than in the inferior animals ; 
but much of our knowledge is derived from the great 
reservoir of absolute truth which is common to us all, 
and our wants and the consequent knowledge of what 
we want are more or less similar ; hence there is a de- 
gree of similarity in our knowledge, and in the actions 
which conform to it. There is, also, more or less per- 
sistence in the knowledge even of the most mercurial. 
In no one does it all change at once, and in most per- 
sons its mutations are very slow. There is always, 
then, an element of steadfastness upon which we can 
count in our expectations of the volitions of others, 
though, being in its nature more or less variable, we 
can never predict the result with entire certainty. 
We however do, in fact, act upon these expectations, 
though with more or less uncertainty as to their being 
realized. 

I have already argued that the volition of A is not 
such an event as B may ever absolutely foreknow as 
an event which, acting as a sole cause in the premises, 
B may by his own power bring about ; still, any power 
one may have to influence the volition of another fur- 
nishes him with a ground for probable, though not for 
certain prediction. This is a consequence of the mu- 
tual dependence of the volitions of each active agent 
upon those of others, and upon the changes which the 
others produce. I may, for instance, not doubt that 
if I make a particular move on the chess-board, my 
antagonist will meet it by a certain move ; and the 



188 CA USA TION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ground of my faith may be that I perceive, and do not 
doubt that he also will perceive, that this is the only 
move by which he can avoid checkmate. I have changed 
the conditions to be acted upon, and thus indirectly 
changed his knowledge and influenced his action. 

If I inform a man who is going in a certain path, 
and cause him to believe that enemies are upon it, in 
wait to kill him, I can be pretty certain that he will 
not proceed in it. I have, here, more directly changed 
his knowledge, and thus influenced his action. In 
neither of these cases, however, is the prediction in- 
fallible, and the whole ground of its probability lies in 
the presumption that the person thus influenced will 
perceive, or will believe, certain things, that, so per- 
ceiving and believing, he will deem best to make a 
certain effort, and will conform his action to what, in 
his view of the changed conditions, or the new knowl- 
edge which I have imparted, he thus deems best ; i, e., 
as before shown, that he will act freely. If God can 
impart knowledge or vary our views without limit. He 
may thus present to us a sufficient reason for any spe- 
cific action, which, being freely adopted upon our own 
perception of a reason, is a free action, and which, if it 
depended wholly upon the knowledge thus imparted, 
would be a free action which He could foreknow. 
Undoubtedly some actions, thus influenced by knowl- 
edge imparted either by the Infinite or by finite be- 
ings, could be counted upon as morally certain to take 
place ; but there is still this difficulty : that, so long 
as we are such beings as we are, we have a capacity 
for knowing, independent of the action of any other 
being whatever, and there never can be any previous 
certainty that one will not thus have additions to his 
knowledge which will vary his action from what the 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 189 

imparted knowledge alone would lead to. In view of 
this fact, men often conceal, or by some device pre- 
vent those whose action they would influence from 
knowing, some things which they suppose would in- 
cline them to a different action ; but knowledge and 
its sources are infinite, and the finite mind cannot guard 
it at all points, or foreknow what may flow into the 
mind of another. We may suppose the Supreme In- 
telligence to thus shut out all adverse knowledge ; but 
even in this extreme case it would still be only the 
Infinite adopting means to influence that knowledge 
to which the finite being still of itself conforms its ac- 
tion, and in so doing acts freely. If He does this by 
changing the conditions, He succeeds only because the 
finite being freely conforms its action to the changed 
conditions. If He does it by changing the knowledge. 
He succeeds by changing the characteristics of the 
being, and making it a somewhat different being from 
what it was ; but such as it is, it still freely conforms 
its action to its own character — to its own views of 
what it would do, and of the manner of doing it. 

I may be ever so confident that the conditions to be 
acted upon being as they are, and the conative intelli- 
gence being as he is, he will act in one particular way, 
and no other. I may believe that a man standing on 
a railway track will make an effort to step off to avoid 
an approaching train : but the ground of my belief is, 
not that the train will produce in him a volition, but 
that he will himself perceive in the conditions, or 
rather in the comparison of his primary and secondary 
expectations, a reason for the effort, and that he is 
free to make it. If he were not free to make it — if 
the effort is made or controlled by some extrinsic 
power, the fact that he perceives a reason for making 



190 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

it, would furnish no ground for supposing that he 
would make it or that it would be made at all, and 
none for predicting it. 

So, too, if we look to the internal conditions : know- 
ing the man, we may know how he will probably be 
affected by certain circumstances ; and hence, if he 
controls his own volitions — wills freely — what, un- 
der such circumstances, his action or volition will be ; 
but, if he does not determine his own volitions, no 
such inference can be drawn from our knowledge of 
his character, and of the circumstances in view of 
which he acts, or in connection with which the volition 
occurred. In all these cases it is because of the free- 
dom of the volition that w^e are able to anticipate it 
with more or less of probability ; and in this prescience 
of free actions there is obviously nothing which is in- 
conceivable or contradictory in thought or impossible 
in fact. It appears already that a free volition, at 
least in some cases, is in fact more susceptible, or more 
" possible of prediction " than a necessitated one 
would be ; and I shall have occasion presently more 
generally and broadly to assert this position. 

The whole argument for necessity from the '' possi- 
bility of prediction " rests upon the assumption that 
what may certainly be predicted must of necessity 
come to pass in the future ; and this must be admitted ; 
but, admitting such predictions in any degree of cer- 
tainty whatever, freedom in action, as already shown, 
may still be one of the known elements upon which 
the prediction is founded. The problem in this view, 
under my definition of freedom, resolves itself into 
this question : Is a volition which is controlled by the 
willing agent himself less " possible of prediction " 
than a volition which is controlled by some power or 



CA US ATI ON AyO FREEDOM IN WILLING. 191 

force extrinsic to the willing agent? Or, which comes 
to the same thing, is a volition which a being produces 
or controls in itself less " possible of prediction " than 
one which it produces or controls in another being? 
From what has been already said, it appears, and is 
perhaps obvious in itself, that to predict the volition 
which is caused or directed by an extrinsic power or 
force involves all the difficulties which arise in regard 
to predicting a volition w^hich is caused and directed 
by the willing agent, and some additional ones. In 
both cases it is admitted that the action conforms to 
the views of the willing agent, and the extrinsic power 
or cause must act in reference to these views, and at 
the same time conform the action by which it so con- 
forms them to its own views of the conditions ; and 
further, not only be able to make the eftort to do this, 
but actually to accomplish it, thus complicating the 
problem of its action : this addition to the process may 
obviously make prediction more difficult, and certainly 
cannot make it less so. 

In your view, the " possibility of prediction '' must 
be based on the uniformity of the succession — on the 
law that the same causes of necessity produce the 
same effects ; or on the observed fact that the same 
antecedents are always succeeded by the same conse- 
quents. The prediction of a future volition as an iso- 
lated fact, as before shown, would not avail ; it is es- 
sential to the argument for necessity to show that the 
possibility of prediction is proof that the volition has 
a connection of dependence with some antecedents 
which are now known. It cannot, however, on this 
ground, be argued that this possibility indicates that 
volition Is an effect of some extrinsic power, or cause, 
or antecedent, whose action or sequent is more uni- 



192 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

form than that of the being within which it is mani- 
fested, and hence more easy of prediction than the 
volitions of this being ; for, under the very law which 
is thus made the ground of the prediction, volition, 
admitting it to be such a necessary or uniform effect 
or consequent, and not, as I hold, a beginning of ac- 
tion, must be just as uniform as the action of the 
power or cause which produces it ; and if the action of 
the being is any less uniform than that of the extrinsic 
powers to which it would thus be attributed, this fact 
would prove that it was not caused by the action of 
such extrinsic powers. 

It is obvious, then, that if this "possibility of pre- 
diction," admitted in its fullest extent, has any bear- 
ing whatever upon the question, it does not argue any 
want of freedom, but rather the contrary. 

In stating the proofs adduced by the necessitarians, 
after mentioning '' the power which every one has of 
foreseeing actions," which I have just considered, you 
say, " They test it further by the statistical results of 
the observation of human beings, in numbers sufficient 
to eliminate the influences which operate only on a 
few, and which, on a large scale, neutralize one another, 
leaving the total result about the same as if the voli- 
tions of the whole mass had been affected by such 
only of the determining causes as are common to them 
all. In cases of this description, the results are as 
uniform, and may be as accurately foretold, as in any 
physical inquiries in which the effect depends upon a 
multiplicity of causes." ^ The uniformity of results in 
the aggregate of human actions, like that of the simi- 
larity of acts in individuals, grows out of the facts 
that our primary wants are similar ; that all derive 

^ Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, Chap. XXVI. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING, 193 

knowledge from the same common reservoir of truth ; 
that the action of the Supreme Intelligence, to which 
each must in some degree adapt his action, is uniform 
and common to all, and that the aggregate of events 
and conditions brought about by the prior action of 
all causative agencies, is at each instant the same to 
all. With such causes tending to produce uniformity, 
we seem to need some element of diversity to account 
for the individual variations ; and this may be found 
in the independent action of each individual Will, and 
especially when exerted in those cases in which there 
are two or more modes really, or to the actor appar- 
ently, just equal, furnishing no ground for preferring 
one to any other of them. After having shown that 
any degree of uniformity in the actions of individuals 
does not conflict with freedom, it seems hardly neces- 
sary to contend that a uniformity in the aggregate of 
these actions would not, and even though such uni- 
formity were more perfect than it is asserted to be. 
The chances are, that the number of individual varia- 
tions from uniformity will be just in proportion to the 
number of cases ; but if the number of variations on 
the one hand are taken to " neutralize " those on the 
other, the chances of the average variations in the ag- 
gregate will, of course, be much diminished, and such 
average uniformity of the aggregate is consistent with 
the greatest possible diversity in the individual actions. 
The average uniformity of aggregates is a uniformity 
of the second, or still higher order, and may be desig- 
nated as the uniformity of diversity. If there were 
no diversity of particulars, there would be no average 
sjjecies of uniformity. The laws applied to such aver- 
ages assume that there is a tendency to the greatest 
possible diversity, in the particulars of which the ag- 



194 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

gregates are composed. The calculation that in shuf- 
fling and cutting a pack of fifty-two cards fifty-two 
times, the chance is that any one of them, e. g^., the 
ace of spades, will turn up once, and only once, is 
founded on the assumption, not that there will be uni- 
formity, or any tendency to it, but that the results 
will tend to spread themselves over all the possibilities, 
and be as diverse as possible. That the chance of 
each one to be turned up once in fifty-two trials will 
be realized in practice, is infinitesimally small ; and 
hence no reliable prediction can be made in regard to 
any one of them, and no such prediction as to the 
average uniformity of a large number of human ac- 
tions has any application to any one particular voli- 
tion. That a very large proportion of men, when 
hungry, will eat bread, and not hay, or that a large 
proportion of those who commit suicide will resort to 
drowning or poisoning, rather than to burning, is as 
readily explained by the free will as by the necessita- 
rian hypothesis. 

At the moment I am inclined to doubt whether the 
fundamental idea upon which the calculation is based 
admits of any reasonable expectation that it will be 
experimentally confirmed. Suppose the only distinc- 
tion in the cards to be that one half are black and the 
other half red. The rule properly assumes that the 
chances of black and red are exactly equal ; and hence 
it is inferred that if the trials be extended to a suffi- 
cient number of cases, the cuts of black and red will 
become equal. But suppose one cut has been made 
resulting in black, w^iich is thus one ahead. Now, the 
future equality of the chances of black and red has 
not been affected by this first trial ; and if the rule 
can be relied upon for this future, black will remain 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 195 

one ahead, proving that the rule was not reliable at 
the start, and if red requires this one, then on com- 
mencing with the second it was not reliable. In Rouge 
et Noir, the chances of black and red are just equal, 
but I am told that at Baden-Baden, black once won 
seventeen times in succession. 

Perhaps nothing but the volitions of finite free 
agents, varying the results of the action of the Infi- 
nite, and acting upon and breaking up the uniformity 
which must obtain in the necessitated results of any 
blind mechanical causes, can produce the variety which 
is the basis of the peculiar uniformity found in aggre- 
gates. The Intelligence, thus interfering with such 
uniformity, by acting through matter in motion, might 
construct a machine which would shuffle and cut cards, 
and vary the process in conformity to any preconceived 
design ; but in this there would be no room for any 
variation from the design, and it would furnish no oc- 
casion for the calculation of chances and of averages. 
Even such variations as might result from the wearing 
of the parts of such a machine, would be determined 
by the conditions, and be the subjects of calculations 
in which chance and averages would be excluded. 

If one could design a machine which should con- 
tinually vary its action, and yet in its variations be 
subject to no particular design., or rule, it might 
produce this diversity. I apprehend, how^ever, that 
that which itself designs, and can form or change its 
designs at each step, that Intelligence, acting by Will, 
is the only conceivable contrivance capable of doing 
this ; and if its action, as you assert, is so subject to 
an inevitable law of cause and effect, as to be cer- 
tainly calculable from existing data., though these data 
may not be always at our command, it can make no 



196 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

basis for the existence of chance, and the only founda- 
tion for it would thus appear to be an intelligent 
being, acting independently of this law of cause and 
effect, and at each step capable of beginning and of 
varying its action independently of all other causative 
agencies. This only could produce that variation 
from the uniformity in the particulars which makes 
room or occasion for the calculation of chances and 
averages, and, if so, then, that there is a doctrine of 
chances and averages, attests the existence of an intel- 
ligent power in Will, which is not controlled by the 
uniformity of " cause and effect," but acts indepen- 
dently of, and interferes with, any such uniformity in 
other causative agencies. 

The hypothesis that every being freely determines 
not only between any one act and its opposite, but be- 
tween it and the whole circle of possible acts, accounts 
for the observed diversity better than that of neces- 
sity. 

I am not, however, disposed to give much weight 
to arguments drawn by either side, from uniformity 
in the results of aggregates neutralized by opposing 
diversities ; but I think this much must be admitted, 
that for reasons analogous to those before applied to 
individual cases (and because the aggregates of action 
are made up of the particular cases of it), the aver- 
age of the aggregate uniformity of free actions may 
be as nearly perfect as that of coerced or unfree ac- 
tions, and, hence, such uniformity or any prediction 
based upon it has no bearing whatever upon the ques- 
tion of freedom in willing. 

If, as I believe, the views I have now advanced in 
connection with those heretafore presented, make a 
complete map of the whole subject, in which there is 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 197 

no unexplored region, the question may arise, and it 
may be profitable to inquire, why this exploration has 
not heretofore been successfully made. The answer, I 
think, must rest mainly in the fact that former ex- 
plorers, with reverential feeling, perhaps I might say 
with superstitious reverence and awe, have shrunk from 
intruding upon ground which they have regarded as a 
hallowed domain concentrated to the Infinite. They 
have at least hesitated to ascribe to humanity the at- 
tributes of a Creative Fii^st Cause — of a Cause which 
in virtue of its intelligence can perceive among the ex- 
isting conditions a reason for acting, and a mode of 
acting to attain the object, and w^hich of itself cdm act 
— can make effort in conformity to these perceptions 
without being first acted upon by any other power or 
Cause ; and upon any position short of this. Freedom 
cannot logically be maintained. Once admit that we 
can act only as a consequence of the prior action of 
some other power or cause, and the element of freedom 
in our action is virtually excluded. The examination 
not only has not advanced far enough, but it has also 
been too narrow. It has lacked scope. It has sought 
to account for the phenomena of Jiurrtan volitions only. 
The views I have presented apply to all voluntary ac- 
tions of all intelligent beings, from that which acts 
only instinctively, or from its innate knowledge of a 
mode of gratifying its want, to that which, with limit- 
less capacity for knowing, with perfect wisdom de- 
vises modes of action and conforms its efforts to the 
most complicated and varying conditions. While 
some, on the one hand, may deem it too presumptuous 
to claim a freedom which in the sphere of our knowl- 
edge is as perfect as that of Omnipotence, many, on 
the other hand, recoil from the humiliation of accept- 



198 CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

ing a freedom in which the worm and the oyster, to 
the extent of their knowledge, may participate. The 
element of freedom is alike perfect in all intelligent 
being, but the sphere in which the being freely acts is 
limited by its knowledge. It must perceive an object, 
and have some idea, right or wrong, of a mode in 
which, by action, it can attain that object. 

Among the secondary causes of the failure, the ab- 
sence of any definition of freedom which applies to 
the act of willing stands conspicuous. In my very lim- 
ited reading on the subject, I have nowhere met with 
such a definition, or even any indication that any such 
existed. The popular idea of freedom is, that it con- 
sists in our not being restrained from doing w^hat we 
will to do ; but this comes after the act of willing, and 
cannot apply to it. This deficiency has led some in- 
vestigators to seek the impossible conditions of a 
freedom which at the same time may not be freedom, 
i, e., which is not restrained from being unfree, and 
which might, at the same time, be both free and unfree 
— be free to be unfree. The definition I have pro- 
posed, and from which as yet I know of no dissent, 
clears up this confusion. 

Another difficulty has been the confounding of 
Choice with act of Will or Effort, and regarding them 
either as identical or as modifications of the same ele- 
ment, when they are, in fact, entirely distinct and dif- 
ferent. Choice belongs to the domain of knowledge, 
and not to that of the Will. The effort to choose is 
only an effort to obtain the knowledge of what will 
suit us best ; all effort, preliminary to acting, is to ob- 
tain knowledge by which to select the object, or the 
mode of action to attain it. On the false assumption 
that choice and volition are the same, the argument for 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 199 

necessity runs thus : the facts we know, not bemg 
within our control, the knowledge of what will suit us 
best, or choice, is not ; and if our choice and our voli- 
tion are the same, then it follows that volition is not 
controlled by us, and hence, in it, we are not free. 
This sophism falls with the correction of the error upon 
which it is founded. 

Inquirers have also been misled by supposing that 
knowledge and other characteristics by which the being 
is distinguished, including the faculty of Willing, are 
extrinsic powers controlling his volition. I trust I 
have shown the fallacy of this position, against which 
it would perhaps be sufficient to say, that we know 
nothing of any being except its characteristics : if we 
eliminate these, and regard them as a distinct extrinsic 
power, there is no known being, to be free or otherwise. 
Closely allied to this is the argument from motives, 
which are also supposed to be powers extrinsic to the 
being and controlling its volitions or efforts, whereas 
a motive is always but the being's knowledge — his 
perception or expectation of the future effect of his 
effort, and his desire or choice as to such future effect. 

Again, Instinct and Habit have been regarded as 
extrinsic powers controlling our actions. If my anal- 
ysis of these traits is correct. Instinct is only a volun- 
tary action, conformed by the being to a mode or plan 
the knowledge of which is innate, requiring no effort 
to devise a plan ; and Habit is a voluntary action in 
conformity to a mode or plan which the being has itself 
previously discovered and acted upon till it can repeat 
it by memory without reexamination of its fitness. 
Such actions, in both cases, differ from others only in 
the fact that for them we have the knowledge of the 
mode or plan ready formed in the mind, enabling us to 



200 CA USA TION A ND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

dispense with the preliminary effort to attain it which 
is requisite in rational actions : after the knowledge is 
attained, there is no difference in the subsequent voli- 
tion based upon it. The difference is neither in the 
knowledge, nor in the volition, nor in the relation of 
the two to each other, but only in the mode in which 
the related knowledge was attained, or came to be in 
the mind. If, in each or in any particular case of in- 
stinctive action, we suppose the knowledge to be imme- 
diately imparted to the actor by a superior intelligence, 
it would still be but a case of the common mode by 
which we influence and change the action of another 
by changing his knowledge, and thus influence and 
change because this other freely conforms his action to 
his knowledge without reference to the manner in which 
he became possessed of it. 

In regard to prescience, it seems to have been over- 
looked that the cause with which the volition is sup- 
posed to be connected and controlled as the ground 
of prediction may be the being that wills as well as 
any other cause, and in this case, his effort, caused and 
controlled by himself, is free. If I have succeeded in 
showing that a volition which is controlled by the being 
itself is quite as easily predicted as that which is con- 
trolled by causal power extrinsic to it, then this argu- 
ment, so much relied upon by philosophers and theo- 
logians, and which is so puzzling to people generally, 
is thrown entirely out of the question. 

Yours very truly, 

E. G. Hazard. 

John Stuart Mill, Esq. 



APPENDIX. 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER. 

I HAVE heretofore alluded to the embarrassment which 
arises, in the question of our Freedom in Willing, from the 
hypotheses of the existence of matter as a distinct entity, and 
further from its being regarded, when in motion, as an inde- 
pendent cause. I have also confessed my inability to prove 
or disprove either of these positions, though the argument 
seems to me to favor the negative in both. That you recog- 
nize in matter nothing but a " permanent possibility of sen- 
sation," indicates that, in this, so far, I am in accord with 
yon. This expression for your view seems, however, to go 
farther, and to imply not only a doubt as to the existence of 
matter as an entity distinct from intelligent being, but raises 
the further doubt as to the existence of anything extrinsic to 
the being that is conscious of the varying sensations, for his 
sensation, actual or potential, cannot inhere in what is ex- 
trinsic to him, or be directly and of itself the evidence of 
any such extrinsic existence, material or spiritual. 

The idea of such extrinsic existence is only an inference 
from the changes in our sensations, growing out of our no- 
tions that every change — every effect — requires a cause. 
With Comte, extrude this idea of cause, and we could not, 
from any change in our sensations, infer the existence of 
anything extrinsic, nor even of any power, or anything else 
in ourselves, beyond the cognized sensations. Unless power 
be postulated, as necessary to change, we cannot predicate 
the existence of anything, except our own sensations, the 
changes in which may, in such case, spring up spontaneously, 



202 APPENDIX. 

without any agency whatever within or without us ; for our 
own efforts in such case may be only the spontaneous change 
in our sensations, without any real activity on our part, but 
only the feeling of action. We should have no reason what- 
ever to infer the existence of anything else. No exercise of 
power, no internal effort on our part being essential to any 
of the changes of which we are conscious, we cannot infer 
the existence of any external power or force as a cause for 
such of these changes as are not attended by a consciousness 
of effort in ourselves, or which we believe to be beyond our 
ability to produce. If the changes in my own mind are but 
sequences of previous states, requiring no action of my own, 
or of other causative agencies, then I have no evidence that 
anything exists but myself, whose sensations are changed or 
intermitted ; and these changes may have been going on 
through all past eternity, and constitute the whole universal 
history, of which only so much is known as I remember. 
If we neither postulate power as essential to change, nor get 
the knowledge of it from consciousness, no one can infer the 
existence of anything outside of his own sentient being, with 
its mutable states of sensation. If each successive state is 
but a sequence of a previous state, without any intervening 
cause or power, then nothing but a constant succession of 
states and the order of their succession can be known ; and 
from these nothing can be inferred. Our sensations, as you 
say, would then be only a string of feelings. Against this I 
attach great weight to your suggestion, that, in the absence 
of any sensations, there is a consciousness that we have 
been, and may again be, the subject of them. It is not easy 
to conceive that it is the present sensation which knows it- 
self, or that remembers that there were other and very dif- 
ferent sensations in the past, and that expects them to recur 
in the future ; e. g.^ that the sensation of red now existing 
remembers that a twinge of the gout was felt, and expects 
that the sound of a bugle will be heard, and that this twinge 
was felt by itself, or that the sound will be heard or cog- 
nized by the fleeting auricular sensation. Equally difficult 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER. 203 

is it to think that this knowledge pertains to any combina- 
tion of sensations, of which there may be now only one exist- 
ing. 

We cannot divest ourselves of the idea, that knowing all 
the various sensations with those memories and expectations 
is distinct from the variety which is known, and from any 
portion of it, and that there is something permanent that 
knows, and that this something is distinct from the fleeting- 
sensations known, and has a relation common to them all. 
Admitting, then, the idea of cause as essential to any inves- 
tigation of the questions involved in the inquiry as to exter- 
nal existence, it is still conceivable that the whole substratum 
of intelligent being — of spirit — might be only a combina- 
tion of the attributes of feeling and knowing, it being impos- 
sible that the former should exist independently of the latter. 
Such a being would be a mere passive recipient of sensations 
and emotions, with no active power in itself. But as, under 
our admission, we must still further admit cause or power in 
something, it is most reasonable to conform this necessity to 
our consciousness. We are conscious, at least, of effort in 
ourselves to produce change. This is the only power or 
cause of which we are directly conscious ; and hence, ration- 
ally and logically, to the two attributes just mentioned we 
must add that of Will. Whether this combination of the 
attributes of feeling, knowing, and willing constitutes the 
ultimate substratum of intelligent being, is a very different 
question from that as to the changing sensations alone being 
such ultimatum. That the capacity for knowledge — the 
ability to know — is an original attribute of intelligent 
being, and that the knowledge of our sensations is intuitive, 
no one will question. That the ability to produce change is 
inherent, is generally admitted, and I have endeavored to 
show that there is no possible way in which we ever could 
have acquired the knowledge that effort is the means by 
which we move our muscles ; and hence, as we now have 
this knowledge, it must be innate.^ 

1 Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Chap. XI. 



20-t APPENDIX. 

This combination of the attributes of feeling, knowing, 
and willing, embracing all that is essential to spirit, and it 
being impossible for us to know anything except by its prop- 
erties or attributes, any further inquiry as to its substratum 
must be merely to ascertain whether it has other properties 
or attributes. The only other properties, of which we have 
any idea, are those which we predicate of matter; and 
hence such inquiry would be, Has spirit extension, resist- 
ance, or color, etc. ? Is it hard or soft, rougli or smooth, 
etc.? Any one of these inquiries is, perhaps, as pertinent 
and important as any other of them. The inquiry in all of 
them virtually is, has mind a material substratum ? or do 
these attributes of feeling, knowing, and willing pertain to 
some form of material substance ? To the idealist, this is to 
inquire, whether these attributes have a substratum of sen- 
sations, or are the co-effects of whatever produces sensation; 
and if these sensations are known only as changes in our 
feelings, then the inquiry becomes, have the spiritual attri- 
butes, by which we recognize the changing conditions of 
existence, a substratum of change ? But the idea of mere 
effect, or of change, is contradictory and destructive to that 
idea of permanency which is the essence of what we are 
seeking in a substratum — a something which, though it 
may be the subject of change, may be affected — still retains 
its distinctive characteristics, as wax, which, however much 
it may be moulded or impressed, still retains its property of 
being moulded and impressed, consequently, its property of 
still being thus affected, and, so far, is still wax. A feeling 
not felt by that which feels is a most comjjlete absurdity. 
In feeling we must, at least, know our own passive existence 
as a combination of the attributes of feeling and knowing — 
mere feeling reveals nothing beyond this. It is only through 
the idea of cause that we reach farther. The innate knowl- 
edge that effort is the mode by which to produce change, in- 
volves the essential idea of cause, and through it we know 
ourselves as cause, or, at least, may do so as soon as, by ex- 
periment, we find that by effort in conformity to this innate 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER, ^05 

knowledge, we really do produce or change our own sensa- 
tions. But we also find that some of our sensations occur 
or change without any effort or exercise of causative power 
by ourselves, and this leads us to attribute these to other 
like causative power not in ourselves ; and if they exceed 
our own power, to like but superior power — to a power able 
to make the changes in our sensations which are made — of 
doino^ what we see is done. 

In our known sensations, and the knowledge that by ef- 
fort we can produce or change our sensations, we have a 
rational ground for believing that there is a combination of 
the attributes of feeling, knowing, and willing, which con- 
stitutes our identity, and distinguishes us from any other 
forms of existence, and that each of such combinations is 
distinguished from other like combinations, not only by the 
difference in the combination of sensations, knowledge, and 
efforts (which, admitting of a variety absolutely infinite, 
probably is in no two alike), but by the distinct conscious- 
ness existing in each of its known sensations. Whether 
there is any common substratum to these combined proper- 
ties, as before observed, is, so far as w^e can know, simply a 
question as to whether the combination embraces still other 
properties, and, if this were decided affirmatively, the only 
further question would be, are these other properties the 
same as those now recognized in matter, as resistance, ex- 
tension, mobility, etc., or are they properties of which we 
have now no conception? It would be only a short step 
farther to inquire whether this substratum of mind is marble 
or metal, mist or moonshine, magnetism or music. Such 
questions, in any view, have as yet little practical impor- 
tance. But though, from the peculiar relations of knowl- 
edge to sensation, we infer a combination of the two, we 
cannot, from these, further infer the existence of matter as 
a cause of the sensations. We cannot thus know matter, 
for all the phenomena of sensation can be as fully accounted 
for without it. We can, in fact, produce many sensations 
in ourselves, in the absence of any external materiality. 



206 APPENDIX. 

This is especially the case with the sensations of sight, by 
which we most readily comprehend an external variety. 
In doing this, as, for instance, in imagining a landscape, we 
are conscious of effort ; but we find that similar landscapes 
arise in our minds without any effort of our own. Having 
found that by our efforts we can create such sensations or 
images in our minds, the natural inference would be, that 
any such which we find existing without our own effort are 
created by a like effort, but one whicli is not ours. If the 
creations of our own efforts preceded those which we find 
existing in our mind, without our efforts, we probably would 
thus reason. But the probability is, that the sensations 
which are independent of us exist in our consciousness be- 
fore those which we perceive to follow as a consequence of 
our efforts, and we then have no reason, from experience or 
otherwise, to refer them to effort. The idea of cause is, in 
itself, a negation of the notion that the thing can produce it- 
self, and, when this idea is attained, we must refer our sen- 
sations to something. In regard to some of these, we can 
find no reason to believe that we have ourselves created 
them. We cannot attribute their existence to their own 
agency, and we know nothing beyond. Hence, we merely 
substitute a representation of each sensation as a thing dis- 
tinct from the sensation itself with which it may be asso- 
ciated as its cause. This is, perhaps, the earliest of those 
philosophical fictions or hypotheses which have been made 
to stand for an unknown cause, and which, getting firmly 
rooted in the mind before there is any competing growth, it 
is very difficult thereafter to eradicate. Very few people, 
thouQf-h they correct the belief of childhood, ever come ha- 
bitually to conceive of the sun as relatively at rest, and its 
apparent diurnal motion as caused by the earth's revolution 
on its axis. And so, from the effects of early impression 
and association, we come to regard the internal sensations, 
which we do know, as merely images or representations of 
something external, which we do not know. Our belief 
that in sleep our sensations are changed without the agency 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER, 207 

either of our own efforts or the presence of matter, favors 
the belief that such changes are by other intelligent agen- 
cies. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in " Mill versus Hamilton — 
The Test of Truth," attempts to show that the reasoning by 
w^hich the idealists defend their position is vitiated by a 
*' coYQvt petitio principii,'' tacitly assuming the existence of 
matter as a basis of the proof ^'that Mind and Ideas are the 
only existences." Assuming the existence of a thing to 
prove that it is not is very different from assuming its ex- 
istence to prove that it is ; the former may, in some cases, 
be legitimate. I cannot find, however, that, as against the 
ideal hypothesis, he makes out either case. Of the argu- 
ment of the idealist he says : " Though the conclusion 
reached is, that Mind and Ideas are the only existences, yet 
the steps by which the conclusion is reached, take for 
granted that external objects have just the kind of indepen- 
dent existence which is eventually denied. . . . The resolu- 
tion of all knowledge into ' impressions ' and ' ideas ' is 
effected by an analysis which assumes, at every step, an ob- 
jective reality, producing the impressions, and the subjective 
reality receiving them. . . . Now, assume that object and 
subject do not exist. He cannot stir a step towards his con- 
clusion ; nay, he cannot even state his conclusion, for the 
word ' impression ' cannot be translated into thought, with- 
out assuming a thing impressing and a thing impressed." 

But if this "objective reality," this "thing impressing," 
is only another active intelligent spirit, it still meets all the 
demands of the argument of the idealist, and is no less an 
objective reality than that which is associated with our idea 
of marble or music. Mr. Spencer further says : " Empiri- 
cism ... is open to an analogous criticism on its method, 
similarly telling against the validity of its inferences. . . . 
Evidently there is tacitly assumed something beyond the 
mind by which its experiences are produced — something in 
which exist the objective relations to which the subjective 
relations correspond — an external world." The empirical 
" method," however, applies no more to the materialistic 



208 APPENDIX, 

than to the ideal hypothesis, under which the '^something 
beyond the mind, by which the experiences are produced," 
etc., would be only other intelligent agencies. 

The question, then, really is, not as to whether there is or 
is not to each intelligence an objective reality, but whether 
this reality is material or wholly spiritual. As already sug- 
gested, if we extrude the idea of cause, there would be no 
reason to refer those sensations, which arise without any 
conscious agency of oar own, to anything within or without 
us, for the phenomenon of a cognized sensation might arise 
of itself, as well as anything else. We cannot, then, ad- 
vance a single step in the investigation of the question on 
hand, without recognizing that every change, of necessity, 
requires the action of a cause. Bat this fact of itself gives 
not the slightest indication as to the nature of the cause, and 
of course cannot indicate whether it is material or spiritual. 
Coupled with the consciousness that some changes in our 
sensations are produced by our own mental efforts, and that 
our knowledge of the connection between our effort and 
these changes is innate, it would seem that we should refer 
similar changes, not by ourself , to a like cause which is not 
ourself — to the mental effort of another intelligent being 
— to a spiritual cause ; and in such case, the existence of 
matter becomes a gratuitous and needless assumptiouc 

There is still this further question : Is there any such dif- 
ference between the sensations or imagery (the landscape, 
for instance) which I create in my own mind, and the sen- 
sations or imagery of a landscape which I find in my mind, 
without any such effort of my own as to justify the reference 
of the former to a mental effort, or active spiritual cause, 
and the latter to a passive material cause ? 

I have suggested ^ that the only difference between the 
phenomena, in the two cases, is that the landscape, which is 
our own creation, is subject to our will — that it can be 
changed as we choose — while that which is not our own 
creation cannot be thus changed at will, and that if, from 
^ Freedom of Mind in Willing, Chap. 11. 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER. 209 

any cause, our own imaginary creations should become fixed, 
and not changeable by our act of will, they would at once 
become to us external realities.^ 

If I am right in asserting that this is the only subsequent 
difference in the phenomena of the two modes of sensation, 
which are distinguished in their inception, the one as associ- 
ated with our own effort, the other as not so associated, there 
seems to be no such difference in their subsequent actual ex- 
istence as will justify referring one of them to a spiritual, 
and the other to a material, cause. 

In any view which recognizes the external universe as 
created, or even moulded, by an intelligent being, a thing 
created, or the forin into wiiich a coexisting material entity 
is moulded, must have existed as a thought or conception 
of that being before he gave actual objective existence to 
such thing or form ; and, ?vS I have before suggested, it can 
make no difference to us whether this thought or conception 
— this imagery — of the creative intelligence is transferred 
immediately to our minds, or mediately by first writing, pic- 
turing, carving, or moulding them in matter. Nor is it of 
any consequence to us whether our sensations are produced 
by a material or a spiritual cause. I have also remarked 
that the ideal hypothesis makes creative agency conceivable to 
us.^ We can all create in our o^wn minds imaginary scenes, 
and can, to some extent, impress these creations upon others. 
That, on the ideal hypothesis, these powers make up in our- 
selves the complement of all the powers which we attribute 
to the Supreme Intelligence, or infer from the existence of 
the universe, adds to the reasons for adopting it. 

To most persons, the existence of matter as a distinct ob- 
jective entity, no doubt, seems to be a necessary belief. Mr. 
Spencer intimates that such necessity is a test of truth, alleg- 
ing that " the fallacious result of the test of necessity, which 
Mr. Mill instances, is due to a misapplication of the test." 
He before contends that " if a particular proposition is, by 
some, accepted as a necessary belief, but by one or more 
^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Chap. II. 



210 APPENDIX. 

denied to be a necessary belief, the validity of the test of 
necessity is not thereby disproved in respect to that particu- 
lar proposition." 

But his very first statement seems conclusive against his 
position ; viz., '' In alleging that a belief is said by some to 
be necessary, but by others to be not necessary, the test of 
necessity is thereby shown to be no test. Mr. Mill tacitly 
assumes that all men have powers of introspection, enabling 
them in all cases to say what consciousness testifies ; whereas 
a great proportion of men are incapable of correctly inter- 
preting consciousness in any but its simplest modes, and even 
the remainder are liable to mistake for dicta of conscious- 
ness what prove, on closer examination, not to be its dicta." 
Now, if most men are incapable of correctly interpreting 
consciousness, and the remainder are liable to be mistaken 
as to its dicta, there would seem to be no reliance upon the 
test, except in those cases in which there is no denial by 
others ; and even in these, error may subsequently be dis- 
covered, and contrariety of opinion arise, showing, as Mr. 
Spencer himself observes, "- that there is a liability to error 
as to what are indissoluble connections." If it be admitted 
that the dictum of consciousness is, in itself, infaUible, we 
still, on Mr. Spencer's statement, need some means of ascer- 
taining what the dictum is ; and again, if we admit that some 
'' men have powers of introspection, enabling them, in all 
cases, to say what consciousness testifies," we still need a 
test by which to distinguish those who have these powers 
from those who have not. In the absence of any absolute 
test of this, each one would accredit those whose testimony 
coincided with his own belief. Any attempt of an idealist to 
convince a London newsboy that he was not conscious of the 
distinct existence of brick walls, as an external entity, would 
probably result in the idealist's believing that the newsboy 
was ignorant, and the newsboy being quite sure that the 
idealist was crazy. Who shall decide ? The majority would 
be with the newsboy. 

The illustrations of errors in consciousness, which Mr. 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER. 211 

Spencer adduces, indicate that he uses this term as coexten- 
sive with knowledge ; and confirmatory of this, the cases in 
which he says, " an appeal to the direct verdict of conscious- 
ness is illegitimate," are cases in which we are in doubt, and 
do not know. From this, as I hold that the acquisition 
of all knowledge is a passive perception — an effortless as- 
similation — by the mind, it might seem that I ouglit not to 
dissent. I admit that identity in this important feature of 
passive perception is a sufficient reason for including all we 
thus perceive under one name, and for this we have the term 
knowledge. But this passive perception seems often to be 
regarded as the peculiar and distinguishing characteristic of 
the knowledge which we attribute directly to consciousness, 
when, being the characteristic of all, it can thus distinguish 
no particular portion of our knowledge. The term con- 
sciousness seems to be frequently used, and advantageously 
so used, to distinguish some mode or modes by which these 
passive perceptions were obtained, or the circumstances in 
which they had their origin, and which made their acquisition 
possible. Our cognitions may be thus classified : 1. Those 
of which we have an immediate perception without any 
preliminary effort, including those which reveal our innate 
knowledge, and also those which arise from simple observa- 
tion or experience. We see these as v/e see objects before 
our eyes. 2. Those in which we make effort to so arrange 
things or ideas, that the truth will become apparent, as we 
remove obstacles to see what is behind them, or bring mate- 
rial objects or extensions near to each other to compare their 
relations. 3. Those in which we substitute signs (as words) 
for the things, or for the mental imagery, and then observe 
the relations among these signs. 4. Those cases in which 
we accept the facts upon the testimony of others, without 
empirical or logical proof. In all these cases, however, the 
resulting knowledge is itself a simple passive perception of 
some real or supposed truth, which may have been brought 
witliin the limits of our vision by effort, but the view or 
knowledge of it is still the same as if it had been in sight, 



212 APPENDIX. 

and cognized without any preliminary effort. From the 
assertions of others, however infallible we deem them, we 
acquire no knowledge, unless we get such perceptions of 
what they describe or assert ; and the same in the other 
cases. I have heretofore given my reasons for applying the 
term knowledge to any and all of those perceptions, of the 
verity of which the percipient has no doubt. ^ The cogni- 
tions included in the first of the above classes seem to me 
properly, and in accordance with the common use of the 
term, to be regarded as dicta of consciousness. We thus 
directly know that effort is the mode of moving our muscles ; 
we cannot account for this knowing ; we can give no reason 
for the belief ; we are simply conscious of a perception of the 
fact without any knowledge of its having been preceded by 
any effort of our own, or th?vt there has been any other cause 
of its existence in us. The term, however, as already in- 
timated, has a wider range and we are also said to be con- 
scious of those intuitions of which our sensations are the 
occasion. We are conscious of the pain which we feel, 
and of the sights, sounds, tastes, and odors which we expe- 
rience. It will, perhaps, be generally admitted that we are 
also conscious of such general truths as that, what is, is, 
and that a thing is equal to itself ; but as to how far in this 
direction simple consciousness goes, there may be much 
diversity of opinion. Some persons perceive relations at 
once which others learn only by slow and careful ratiocina- 
tion. Truths flash upon the poet which the logician reaches 
through repeated syllogisms. 

I have heretofore pointed out that the difference between 
the second mode, in which we deal directly with the imagery 
in the mind, excluding terms, and the third mode, in which 
we use substituted terms to the exclusion of the imagery, 
constitutes the generic distinction between poetry and prose, 
and that, in the graphic delineation of the processes of the 
former mode lies the poetic art, of which the most perfect 
type is in the representation and communication of the 
^ Freedom of Mind in Willing^ Chap. III. 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER. 213 

thought and imagery of the mind of God in the material uni- 
verse, without intermediate signs or words ; while the most 
perfect type of the latter, or prosaic mode, is in mathemati- 
cal reasoning, and especially in the algebraic formulas, in 
which, for the time being, we know nothing but the substi- 
tuted terms, and their quantitative relations.^ In geometry 
we really deal as exclusively with the terms in which the 
definitions are stated ; but this fact is obscured by the use of 
diagrams to aid our conceptions of the things defined, or 
rather the things created by the definitions, and of the rela- 
tions among them. This makes a very slight deviation 
from the purely prosaic method of terms, and in the direc- 
tion of the poetic method of imagery. That the poetic pro- 
cesses are carried on without the use of conventional signs 
or words, makes it difficult to communicate its results to 
others. For this, the additional process of translating the 
imagery into language, is a prerequisite. The logical or 
prosaic process, being carried on, from premises to conclu- 
sion, in terms, are already in the state admitting of easy 
communication to others ; but here, in a large proportion of 
cases, before they admit of practical application, the reverse 
process of translating the term into imagery, which can be 
perceived and apprehended by the mind, is necessary. We 
may more clearly recognize this necessity in the fact that 
the perceived relations among the terms sometimes force us 
to a conclusion, which we, at the time, not only do not per- 
ceive to be true, but do not. believe, and which may or may 
not stand the test of further examination in this reverse pro- 
cess. In both modes we really reason. In one, directly 
with the imagery of the mind ; in the other, with the terms 
put in its stead. But from the superior quickness of the 
poetic processes, and the fact that its results are in a form 
which admit of immediate assimilation and application, these 
results are more likely to be accepted as dicta of conscious- 
ness than those of the slower abstract prosaic mode.^ 

1 Language^ p. 5, Houg-hton, Mifflin & Co.'s edition. 

2 For the same reasons poetry is the nearest approach which Ian- 



214 APPENDIX. 

These views show that it is not without reason that the 
term consciousness is used as coextensive with knowledge, 
all of which, in its acquisition, has the common characteris- 
tic of simple passive perception, and is not distinguishable in 
the manner of its immediate inception, but only by the dif- 
ference in the antecedent processes by which these ultimate 
perceptions were obtained. The similarity in the processes 
two and three, and the manner in which the boundary be- 
tween one and two varies in different individuals, indicate 
the difficulty of making any general rule of division founded 
on the difference in the processes. Some persons would see 
that all the angles of a triangle must be equal to two right 
angles, as quickly, and with as little intellectual effort, as 
others would see that things which are equal to the same 
thing must be equal to one another. 

But, wherever the division be made, or if not made at all, 
it is evident that the whole effect and influence of conscious- 
ness upon our knowledge lies in the fundamental and com- 
mon element of simple perception, and that this, while it is 
the sole foundation of knowledge and belief to the percipient 
individual, is not proof, and as a rational argument avails 
nothing with one whose perception is different^ nor even 
with one who does not himself have the same perception. 
Our perceptions are not alike ; we see things differently, 
with different eyes, or in different aspects or circumstances, 
but each must believe in conformity to those perceptions of 
his own which constitute his whole knowledge. 

If any of these perceptions classified as those of conscious- 
ness, or not, are in themselves really tests of truth, or if any 
such perceptions of any individuals having " powers of in- 

g"uage can make to reality, and the poetic power is the most impor- 
tant element in common sense and business ability. It is that which 
enables one most quickly to perceive the actual relations and sig-nifi- 
cance of circumstances in the common affairs of life, and most read- 
ily to adapt his action to them. Those in whom the poetic element 
prevails may give bung-ling" reasons for logical action, while those 
wholly prosaic will give logical reasons for bungling action. 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER, 215 

trospection, enabling them, in all cases, to say what con- 
sciousness testifies," are to be received as infallible, we still, 
in the first case, need some means of ascertaining which of 
such perceptions constitute such test of truth ; and in the sec- 
ond, of knowing whose individual cognitions are to be ac- 
cepted as authority. That the perceptions of some men of 
clear and profound thought, and especially of such men upon 
the subjects to which they have given special attention, will 
be regarded as more reliable than those of other men, will 
be generally admitted. But this superior knowledge of a 
leading mind will be of no avail to others, until they get the 
same perceptions that he has. 

Even those most impressed with their own comparative 
ignorance will cling to the conviction that they know some- 
thing, and that what they do know they know as well as any- 
body else does. Without such faith in their own percep- 
tions, their knowledge, if they could be said to have any, 
would be comparatively useless to them. 

Mr. Spencer asserts that in Necessity we have a test of 
the authority of the dicta of consciousness. That among 
our passive perceptions we recognize various degrees of re- 
liability, from the absolutely certain, to the probable, or the 
merely possible, will also be admitted. The absolutely cer- 
tain propositions are those of which we not only have a clear 
perception, but also clearly per ceiv^e that it is impossible that 
they should be otherwise ; and if to any, it is to these that 
the test of necessity must apply. This, however, is a differ- 
ent test of necessity from that adopted by Mr. Spencer, in 
which 'Hhere remains in the inquirer the consciousness that 
certain states of his consciousness are so welded together, 
that all other links in the chain of consciousness yield before 
these give way.'' These ^'indissoluble connections," which, 
for the time being, " he is compelled to accept/' may be only 
the indissoluble associations of repeated experience ; of sim- 
ple passive observation of the coincidences in time or place, 
without any perception of the impossibility of their negation 
or dissolution by other experience or by abstract reasoning. 



216 APPENDIX. 

All mathematicians agree that numerical and mathemati- 
cal truths are necessary in the sense 1 have stated. We can 
perceive not only that they are true in the particular cases 
before us, but that it is impossible that there can be other 
cases in vrhich they are not true. But, admitting that these 
perceptions of numerical and mathematical truths are dicta 
of consciousness, and that, in fact, there is this certainty of 
necessity in regard to them, it avails nothing with the man 
who does not perceive this necessity. He would le very apt 
to doubt that in all the variations of which a triangle admits, 
there can be no variation in the aggregate of its angles. 
And in the case taken by Mr. Spencer, though, in fact, 
thirty-five and nine of necessity make forty-four, the igno- 
rant may as readily believe that they make forty-five. 

In some cases it is difficult to determine whether the idea 
of necessity has its origin in experience or in reasoning. 
Most persons will assert that a body cannot move one way, 
and then directly back, without stopping at the extreme 
point of its advance. This can hardly be a result of obser- 
vation, for even if uniformly true in fact, the time of rest is 
generally imperceptible. I am inclined to think that it is 
believed to be necessarily involved in the ideas as a neces- 
sity of thought, and that this belief has been wholly or in 
part generated by the terms used in describing the phenom- 
ena. We begin the assertion by saying the body stojjs^ and 
add, going in that direction. 

Be this as it may, the assertion is generally made witli 
great confidence. This confidence maybe somewhat shaken 
by the inquiry, how much must the body be deflected from 
its original course to make its stopping a necessity ? If a 
very small chano^e from directly forward will not, w^ill a very 
small variation from directly back, suffice ? and if so, what is 
the precise degree of deflection at which the body will actu- 
ally stop at the angular point ? If we now present the case 
of the direct collision of two bodies, perfectly hard, and mov- 
ing in opposite directions, one weighing four pounds and the 
other only two pounds, with the suggestion that, if the small 



EXISTENCE OF MATTER, 217 

body stops at the moment of collision, the larger one must 
also stop, and that there would then be no power to move 
either, it will appear that the assertion as to the stopping is 
in direct conflict with other admitted facts, and, on further 
examination, may be found not to be a necessity of thought, 
but that a body may really be conceived of as moving to and 
fro with the same uniform velocity at every point, including 
the extreme points, as well as when it is moving steadily and 
directly forward. He who thought otherwise has been de- 
ceived by experience, or by the apparent or real testimony 
of consciousness ; but still, so long as he has the uncorrected 
perceptions, however acquired, his knowledge must be iden- 
tical with them. 

In further illustration of his idea of the necessity of think- 
ing " an objective existence," Mr. Spencer says of this in- 
quirer : " When grasping a fork, and putting food into his 
mouth, he is wholly unable to expel from his mind the notion 
of something which resists the force he is conscious of using ; 
and he cannot suppress the nascent thought of an indepen- 
dent existence, keeping apart his tongue and palate, and giv- 
ing him that sensation of taste which he is unable to generate 
in consciousness by his own activity." The cases here pre- 
sented are as good as any which could be selected, but I 
think they do not reach the point he aims at. They do not 
show that '^ an objective existence " is an immediate revela- 
tion of consciousness. It is true that one cannot, by a direct 
single effort, produce the sensation of the " something which 
resists his force ; " nor can he thus directly produce " the 
sensation of taste," nor even the sensation of touch in any 
form, but the immediate antecedents, in both cases, generally 
are our own efforts, often made wdth design to produce the 
resulting sensations ; and hence the effects may reasonably 
be referred to these efforts. In pressing one hand against 
the other, we would refer the sensation of touch to our own 
effort ; and the difference between this and producing the 
sensation of taste is merely in the degree of directness, or 



218 APPENDIX. 

the greater or less complexity of the series of efforts by 
which the effect is reached. 

If one, without prior effort of his own, should have the 
notion of " something which resists the force he is conscious 
of using/' or should thus become suddenly conscious of the 
*' sensation of taste," he would (if he recognized the neces- 
sity of cause or power for every change) attribute this change 
to some power other than himself, and with the knowledge 
that he does himself, by his own efforts, sometimes produce 
such changes, he would logically refer those changes of 
which he is conscious, and which are attended with no con- 
scious effort of his own, to like efforts not his own. 

I do not find that Mr. Spencer's arguments or illustrations 
touch the question of the existence of matter as a distinct, 
independent entity ; or that they tend to prove or elucidate 
anything beyond the point that there is '^ an objective exist- 
ence " of some kind, though, from the current associations 
with the terms necessarily used in the discussion, and the 
elifficulty of finding language free from these associations, 
one might at first be led to think otherwise. I see no rea- 
son to suppose that he intended to do more than assert such 
" objective existence," without asserting the verity of that of 
the materialists ; and upon this point, in view of the state- 
ments 1 have just made, I cannot agree with him, that, in the 
immediate revelations or dicta of consciousness, or in their 
relatively strong cohesions, " the inquirer discovers a war- 
rant higher than any argument can give for asserting an ob- 
jective existence," but must adhere to my previous notion 
that, as by consciousness we can only directly know our sub- 
jective sensations, our belief in an objective existence is only 
an inference, founded on our idea of the necessity of a cause 
for those changes in our sensations which occur without our 
own agency, and that it is more rational to regard this ob- 
jective cause as similar to the subjective cause which pro- 
duces similar effects than as something wholly different ; in 
other words, that, as we know that we produce changes in 
our sensations by an internal effort, we should logically im- 



INFINITE SPACE. 219 

pute like changes, which are not the result of efforts within 
us, to ejforts without us, and, consequently, to intelligent 
power, and not to material force, and that this cognition of 
** objective existence," though in the last analysis, like all 
our cognitions, an immediate perception, so far from revealing 
a " warrant higher than that which any argument can give," 
really has its foundation and warrant in an argument which, 
put into words, runs thus : Every change must be effected by 
some power — by some cause — this cause must either be 
ourself, or something which is not ourself ; some changes 
occur of which ourself is not the cause, and, hence, must be 
effected by a cause which is not ourself. As the existence 
of this extrinsic agency is a mere inference from the differ- 
ence in the phenomena of the change, it would be unphilo- 
sophical and irrational to infer any greater difference in the 
cause than is required by the differences in the phenomena 
or effect ; and, hence, we must suppose that these causes are 
in all respects alike, except that one is intrinsic and the other 
extrinsic, and that the changes in our sensations are, in all 
cases, caused by intelligent effort within or without us, in 
neither case requiring the existence of matter as a distinct 
entity to account for the phenomena, nor furnishing any 
proof or indication of such existence. 



OUR NOTION OF INFINITE SPACE. 

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in the article referred to in the 
preceding paper,-^ says : " Here, then, is the flaw in Sir 
William Hamilton's proposition : that space must be infinite 
or finite, are alternatives of which we are not obliged to re- 
gard one as necessary, seeing that we have no state of con- 
sciousness answering to either of these words, as applied to 
the totality of space, and therefore no exclusion of two antag- 
onistic states of consciousness by one another." But the ob- 
vious truth of the general proposition, that everything " must 
1 Mill versus Hamilton — The Test of Truth. 



220 APPENDIX, 

be infinite or finite," does not depend upon our having a state 
of consciousness answering to the particular thing to which 
it is ajDplied. We assert that all the angles of every plane 
triangle are equal to two right angles ; but we have no state 
of consciousness corresponding to triangles in general, or to 
every 'plane triangle, and hence, if such consciousness of the 
thing to which the general proposition is applied is necessary, 
we would only assert this of the particular triangle in the 
mind's view at the time. But in demonstrating this geo- 
metrical theorem, we perceive that we use no elements which 
do not pertain to every plane triangle, whatever its form or 
size, and hence assert its truth of every plane triangle. The 
only condition essential to the demonstration is, that the 
figure shall be bounded by three right lines. So, too, when 
we assert that a thing is infinite or finite — is or is not 
bounded — we perceive that the truth of this proposition 
does not depend upon any peculiar property whatever of the 
thing to which it is applied, but is as true of a thing with 
one property, or one combination of properties, as of a thing 
with other property, or other combination of properties ; and 
hence, whether we do or do not know or conceive of the 
properties of the particular thing to which we apply the 
proposition is not material to our faith in its universal appli- 
cation to all things whatever. The only ground upon which 
space could be excluded from its application would be to 
assert that space, in itself, is no thing — that it is but our 
conception of nothingness ; but it has the property of, or is in 
itself, extension — the very property or conception to which 
the idea of being bounded or not bounded most palpably 
applies. 

If I see only a portion of anything, I know that it either 
is or is not bounded. A telegraph wire, of which I cannot 
see any end, I know either has or has not an end in each 
direction. It may be infinite, and every portion of it present 
the same appearance as that which I now see. It may make 
an entire circle, and thus, though finite, in a common sense 
of the word, have no end. Even in this sense, to deny one 



INFINITE SPACE. 221 

of the jjositions asserts the other, both in terms and in 
thought. In regard to space, it is asserted that, in its en- 
tirety, we can neither comprehend nor conceive it as bound- 
ed, nor yet as not bounded. The first seems to me certain, 
but T am by no means sure that we cannot and do not con- 
ceive of space as boundless. Tliat we know it must be 
either bounded or not bounded, taken in connection with our 
inability to conceive of it as not bounded, seems to indicate 
that we do, in thought, regard and conceive it as boundless. 
The mental process by which we attempt to grasp the idea 
of infinite space is peculiar. We begin with the admitted 
fact that it can have no bound or limit, and yet the next 
thing we attempt is to find its bound or limit, and then, be- 
cause we cannot find in it that which we know does not be- 
long to it, and cannot possibly pertain to it, we conclude 
that we do not comprehend it. This is as if one who had 
never before seen any shot, except those made of lead, 
should, on looking at some made of silver, say these are 
pure silver shot ; I cannot find any lead in them ; therefore 
I do not comprehend them. That our conception of any- 
thing does not embrace in it a property or quality which 
does not, or cannot, pertain to it, is so far proof that our 
conception of it is not incorrect. As the fact that one does 
not and cannot find any lead in pure silver shot, is so far 
evidence that he has a correct conception of silver shot ; so, 
too, that we do not and cannot find any limit or bound to 
infinite space, so far indicates that in this respect we prop- 
erly conceive it. The knowledge or conception of a thing 
in iUelf is impossible to us. We can only know it by its 
properties of producing change in ourselves, and, if an out- 
ward object, the only way in which this can be done is 
through our sensations. The same object may have the 
property of effecting a variety of sensations, and we have 
not a full conception of it till we know all these properties, 
or, rather, all the effects attributed to them, for the proper- 
ties, as distinct from the effects, like the things in them- 
selves, are unknow^able, and are recognized only by their 



222 APPENDIX, 

effects upon us. When we name these properties, we only 
name a cause, the existence of which is inferred from the 
effect. This object may also have the property of changing 
itself, or of changing other objects, and, maybe, of being 
changed by them. The knowledge of all these elements is 
necessary to that full comprehension which is possible. 

We comprehend a thing in itself when we know all its 
component parts and properties, and all the relations of these 
parts and properties to each other. As an entirety, we com- 
prehend a circle whose radius reaches to the remotest star. 
We know that all its properties are the same as those of 
any other circle. We cannot readily divide it into, and par- 
ticularly notice each of such magnitudes as we have been 
accustomed to move over, or even to clearly apprehend by 
the eye, for to fix the attention on each of such portions 
would require centuries. These cannot all be the objects of 
real or imaginary sensations. We cannot thus make it up 
or construct a conception of it by the addition of the minor 
perceptions which our senses have supplied. But this does 
not imply that mentally we do not comprehend this vast 
circle, with all its intrinsic proj)erties and conditions. One 
must at least have a clear conception of those parts, proper- 
ties, and relations, which he can fully and accurately present, 
on a smaller scale, to the senses. Now, the idea or con- 
ception of infinite space, in itself, is the simplest which is 
possible. Its only property by which it is related to, or 
distinguished from, anything else, is its capacity to contain 
extension, or admit other existences into itself ; and for these 
it is equally essential, whether we regard it, with these other 
existences, as distinct, self-subsisting entities, or as mere ideal 
creations, or imagery of the mind. Strictly speaking, per- 
haps, this capacity of space to be a receptacle for things or 
for certain mental imagery, is rather a use than a property. 
Its component parts are perfectly homogeneous — nothing 
but space — and the relations of each portion to all the rest 
are the same, and there is nothing external to it to which- 
different portions of it might have different relations. 



INFINITE SPACE. 223 

The idea of a periphery of a circle, considered merely as 
an isolated line, has this same homogeneity : every portion of 
it is precisely like every other equal portion, and has the same 
geometrical relation to every other portion. So, too, of the 
surface of a sphere : every portion is like every other portion 
of like dimensions, and each of such portions has the same 
relation to all the rest of the surface. But in the cases of 
the circle's periphery and the sphere's surface, we always 
have a difference in the relations of the different parts to 
what is extrinsic to them, as that one part is farther from 
the earth than another, or one part is farther to our right 
than another, which cannot occur in regard to infinite space, 
to which there is nothing without to compare. 

Intelligent being, intrinsic to space, may regard one por- 
tion of it as to his right, and another as to his left ; but 
change in his position does not change his relation to all the 
rest of space in this respect. 

If, instead of periphery and sui^ace, we consider the en- 
closed area of the circle, and the enclosed quantity or space 
in the sphere, then the portions in each vary in their intrin- 
sic relations to each other ; some are nearer the periphery or 
the surface than others, or some are nearer to the centre 
than others ; but make this sphere infinite, and this variety 
in the intrinsic relations of its parts disappears, for there is 
then no circumference, consequently no centre, but every 
point in it is as much a centre, and as much on or near the 
circumference, as any other point. 

The homogeneity of the isolated periphery of the circle, or 
of the surface of the sphere, is again attained, and the con- 
ception is not embarrassed or complicated by any difference 
in the relations of its component parts, and has the additional 
exemption from such embarrassment and complication that 
there is nothing without it with which it can have any rela- 
tions whatever. The idea of infinite space is thus simpler 
than that of a finite homogeneous sphere in which the differ- 
ent parts stand in different relations to each other, and also 
to surrounding object 3- No conception of anything can be 



224 APPENDIX. 

simpler than of that which is perfectly homogeneous in all 
its parts, and in which every part has the same relation to 
every other part, and nothing outside with which to have 
varying relations, and in which, having only one property, 
this can of course have no relations whatever, and, therefore, 
no diversity of relation to any other of its properties. In 
regard to the surface of the finite sphere, we cannot in our 
conception of it take in separately each point, and observe 
its relations to every other point, for the nunjber of these 
points is infinite ; but knowing that each of these points has 
the same relation to every other point, we are justified, after 
ascertaining this fact, and having obsei^ved the relation of 
one point to the rest of the surface, which includes all other 
points, in saying that we comprehend this relation of every 
point to the whole surface. 

So, too, in the case of infinite space, though we cannot 
consider each of the infinity of like finite spaces, of which it 
is composed, yet, knowing that the relation of each one to 
the whole is the same as that of every other, we may in like 
manner assert that we conceive and know that every point 
or portion has the same relation to the whole which every 
other point or like portion has. It seems, then, that our 
conception of infinite space which properly extrudes the ele- 
ment of limit or bound, which does not belong to it, and 
which embraces a knowledge of all its component parts, 
and of all the relations of those parts to each other, and of 
all its properties and their relations to each other, and of all 
its uses, is as full and perfect a conception as we have of 
anything whatever. 

The idea of what is thus homogeneous in all its parts, 
and in their relations to each other, which has but one prop- 
erty or use, and nothing without it to which it can have 
varying relations, is the simplest possible conception of ex- 
istence, having indeed so few elements of thought in it as, 
in the last analysis, to raise a doubt as to whether the con- 
ception is that of existence or of its absence. 

Perhaps the principal difiiculty in the case is that of be- 



INFINITE SPACE, 225 

lieviiig that an idea so simple and so limited in its condi- 
tions, really fits an object which, in its vastness, is illimitable. 
Hence we seek to add to our conception of it, and find that 
in so doing we immediately come in contact with ideas that 
do not beloiip' to it, showinQ: that on all sides we have reached 
the limit of the conception we are exploring, and have 
already embraced in onr survey all that pertains to it. If 
extension is regarded as its property, this does not generi- 
cally distinguish it from other things ; for all have this prop- 
erty, and the consideration that this is the only real property 
of space, and that space is necessary to all material exist- 
ences, strengthens my previous suggestion that extension is 
tlie nearest approach to our notion of a substratum. Mere 
extension is unoccupied space, and is that which always re- 
mains when all the other properties of that which occupied 
it are abstracted ; but the extension, in itself, is then reduced 
to a vacuum or nonentity. 

The reduction of onr notion of tangible space to an idea 
of the simplest character, and eventually to a mere extended 
vacuum, is not wholly an isolated fact, without parallel in 
other objects of thought. As the tangible quantities of an 
algebraic formula may sometimes be reduced in the aggre- 
gate to zero, and more especially as the combination of such 
formulas in an equation, sometimes, when reduced to their 
lowest terms, results only in O = O, so, too, in subjecting 
some of our abstract ideas to that laitt analysis, in which 
they elude further reduction, analysis, or comparison, we 
get glimpses of relations by which they seem to be neutraliz- 
ing each other, and in the aggregate resolving into nothing- 
ness, suggesting as a corollary the converse possibility that 
from nothingness they may have been evolved, and brought 
into existence by the creative plastic power of an Intelli- 
gence of a higher order than that which thus by its action 
resolves them again into their original nonentity. 

If, by a fuller knowledge — a clearer perception — of this 
resolving process, or otherwise, w^e shall ever come to be 
able to reverse it, then, in connection with the ideal philoso- 



226 APPENDIX, 

phy, the creative power of the finite, as well as of the Infinite 
Intelligence, will no longer be veiled in a mystery which has 
thus far been impenetrable to mortal vision, and the origin 
of all existence, except that which creates, would be revealed 
to us. 

We may, perhaps, even now anticipate, or venture the 
prediction, that the creative power of mind will be found to 
reside mainly in its poetic modes of thought, and its annihi- 
lative, mainly in its logical prosaic modes. 

This would be in harmony with the suggestions I have 
heretofore made, that the representation of the thought and 
imagery of the mind of God in the creations of the material 
universe, is the purest type we know of poetry ; that the 
province of the poet is to create, and to make his creations 
palpable and tangible to others, and that the appliance of the 
logical modes to his productions immediately reduces his 
creations to mere abstractions, with a cessation or revulsion 
of all the poetic vision and emotion which they were fitted to 
produce. We may thus, by a resort to the logical modes, 
annihilate the creations of the most gifted in our own sphere 
of intelligence, or at least reduce them to intangible abstrac- 
tions. We may further note in this connection, that mathe- 
matics, the purest type of the logical processes which thus 
dissolve or reduce the creations of the poet, is only the 
science of quantity, or simple extension, or mere space ; 
our idea of which, involving the fewest properties and rela- 
tions, is the nearest approach to nothingness of which we 
have any conception. 

But this power of annihilating is by no means the only 
characteristic of the logical faculty. It is not creative, but 
it discovers and analyzes what already exists, and in its 
ability to reduce, to disintegrate, and to abstract, it is an im- 
portant agent in the advancement of our knowledge of what 
already is, often harmoniously cooperating with the poetic 
modes to this end. 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 



The doctrine of necessity has been ably advocated 
by many acute philosophers, and is to-day, in various 
forms, including fatalism, the accepted creed of a large 
portion of mankind. A doctrine thus supported, and 
so immediately bearing upon our actions and our 
powers, cannot but be worthy of serious attention. 

Professor Huxley, approaching it on the material 
side, in the true spirit of philosophical inquiry, trust- 
ingly following wherever truth seemed to him to lead, 
and regardless of the apprehended consequences of at- 
tacking dominant creeds and opinions, has pushed this 
doctrine to its legitimate logical consequences, in the 
conclusion that all animals, man included, are but 
" conscious automata," moved and directed in their 
movements by extrinsic forces. 

With him, I believe that all progress in knowledge 
is beneficial ; I deprecate no enterprise in experiment 
nor any boldness in speculation, if we are duly cau- 
tious in accepting and applying its results. The rev- 
elations of intelligent and honest inquiry always merit 
respectful and careful consideration, but are not prop- 
erly exempt from scrutiny. 

Although I have perhaps deviated as far on one 
side of the current opinions as Professor Huxley has 
on the other, I cannot claim any credit for fearlessness 



228 AMMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

of the consequences — my only apprehension in that 
respect being, that any arguments I may present, un- 
relieved by interesting experiments, will not excite 
sufficient interest to provoke either commendation or 
censure. 

I think, however, I may properly say that, viewing 
the problem on the spiritual side, and carefully ex- 
cluding popular prepossessions and theological dog- 
mas, I have carried the opposite doctrine of "free- 
dom " to its legitimate logical consequences in the 
conclusion that every being that wills is a creative 
first cause, having, in virtue of its attributes of knowl- 
edge, feeling, and volition, a power of itself to begin 
action. That the object of every volition or effort is 
to make the future different from what it otherwise 
would be, and hence, that every such being is an inde- 
pendent, self-active power in the universe, freely do- 
ins: its part and cooperating with all other active in- 
telligences in creating the future, which is always the 
composite result of the action of all such intelligences ; 
that even an oyster, though it have no other power 
than that of moving its shell, may, so far, create the 
future and make it different from what it otherwise 
would be ; and further, that as every intelligent being 
will conform its actions to the conditions under, or 
upon, which it is to act, the action of each, in chang- 
ing the conditions, may affect the action of any or of 
all others, and the action of the lowest may, in this 
way, influence that of the highest. 

We both, however, admit knowledge and feeling, 
and recognize consciousness, or the phenomena of 
knowing, in man and other animals. In discussing 
questions so fundamental, this must be largely relied 
upon for the foundation and support of the argument 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 229 

on either side, and I will briefly state my views in 
regard to its authority. 

Mind, as manifested in man and in brutes, I regard 
as entirely made up of a capacity for knowledge, a 
susceptibility to feeling, and ?i faculty of effort (will) ; 
this last being the only power we possess ; and if it 
— the effort of intelligent being — is not the only 
power knoicn to us, it is at least that power of the 
existence of which we have the most direct and reli- 
able evidence. The recipient and receptacle of all our 
knowledge, whatever its source, is consciousness. Our 
conscious perceptions and feelings (including emo- 
tions) are the foundation of all knowledge, and all 
belief ; but the consciousness of one man, of itself, 
avails nothino- aoainst another liavino* a different con- 
seiousness and a different belief. Belief is not a 
matter of will or of choice, but each must believe in 
conformity to his own consciousness, and retain his 
existing belief till his consciousness is in some way 
changed. The denial of this involves a contradiction, 
and we may assume, as a corollary to it, that it is not 
only reasonable, but a necessity, that we believe things 
to be as they appear to be, till we recognize a sufficient 
reason for believing that the appearances are decep- 
tive. The testimony of consciousness is not equally 
reliable as to all subjects. In some cases it is conclu- 
sive, in others far from it. In resrard to our internal 
perceptions, sensations, and emotions, our consciousness 
is conclusive evidence that we have them, and that 
they are what consciousness represents them to be. 
The consciousness of the sensation of pain is the pain 
itself; and the consciousness of perceiving that the 
whole is greater than its part is, itself, the perception 
of that fact, and there can be no question as to my 



230 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

actually having the sensation of pain, or as to my hav- 
ing the perception of the inequality. But the con- 
sciousness is not conclusive as to the conformity of the 
perception with the existing fact, nor as to any infer- 
ence which I may draw from the sensation. One may 
have as full and decided perception of what is not, as 
of what is ; and the liability to erroneous inferences 
from our sensations is a matter of daily experience. 

Even a universal belief, founded on entire uniform- 
ity in the perceptions, or in the inferences from our 
sensations, is not conclusive. If it were, no error in 
such belief could ever be corrected. If, for instance, 
the belief that the sun daily revolved around the 
earth was once universal — and universal belief is re- 
garded as conclusive — the present belief never could 
have been substituted. Still, to assume things to be 
as they appear to be, till a sufficient reason is given to 
the contrary, is a necessary condition to our progress 
in science and philosophy. If this proposition is de- 
nied, then all Professor Huxley's array of facts and 
arguments may be fairly met by saying, '' True, these 
things appear to be as you say, but, then, this appear- 
ing is no reason for supposing that they really are so." 
There would be an end to at least all physical investi- 
gations. 

Instinct is, perhaps, a more important element in 
this discussion than Professor Huxley has suggested ; 
the various and vague notions in regard to it which 
obtain both in the popular and philosophical mind do 
much to confuse the consideration of voluntarv and 
mechanical action. 

Professor Huxley assumes that instinctive action is 
mechanical. He says : '' When we talk of the lower 
animals being provided with instinct, and not with 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 231 

reason, what we really mean is, that, although they are 
sensitive, and although they are conscious, yet they act 
mechanically, and that their different states of con- 
sciousness, their sensations, their thoughts (if they 
have any), their volitions (if they have any), are the 
products and consequences of their mechanical ar- 
rangeuients. I must confess that this popular view is, 
to my mind, the only one which can be scientifically 
adopted." 

There is much and high authority for the doctrine 
that instinctive actions are mechanical, but I believe 
it is very generally rejected by those who have ob- 
served the actions of animals v/ithout any knowledge 
of subtile theories to account for them. '' What," in- 
credulously exclaimed one of my grandchildren, on 
hearing of '' Professor Huxley's statement," " what 
sort of a mechanism is it that carries the wild-geese 
from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico every fall, and 
brings them back every spring ? " This seems to me 
a fair illustration of the prevailing notions, indicating 
that Professor Huxley is mistaken in assuming that 
the " popular view " favors the mechanical theory. I 
am aware that the '' popular view " cannot be urged 
against special inquirers, whose object often is to cor- 
rect prevailing errors, as well as to extend the limits 
of our knowledge ; but misapprehension of the popu- 
lar view may give a wrong direction to their efforts 
and make them unavailing. 

No mechanical contrivance, no mechanism furnishes 
2inY power ^ but is only a means of applying power ; and, 
even if the term mechanical embraces all the phenom- 
ena of matter in motion, we still have the question as 
to whether the mechanism or the matter moves by its 
own power, or is moved by the effort of some intelli- 
gent being. 



232 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 

He who views the perfect crystal as the direct crea- 
tion of an intelligent designing power, and he who 
sees in it only the orderly effect of natural forces, will 
alike class it with the mechanical ; so, too, both would 
speak of the celestial mechanism. 

In investigating the Icnvs of Nature^ the one is 
observing and generalizing the uniform mode of God's 
voluntary action, the other is finding the necessary 
consequences of the action of material forces. Each 
attributes any phenomena which he cannot class with 
any of his generalizations to some inscrutable exercise 
of power — the one to intelligent effort, the other to 
unintelligent material movements ; so that, in the 
mechanical, we have still the question as to the two 
forms of power — intelligence in eft'ort, and matter in 
motion ; and, as between these, admitting the exist- 
ence of both, it seems most reasonable to attribute in- 
stinctive action, the action of a conscious and hence 
intelligent being, to the former, rather than to the lat- 
ter. Instinctive action is not mechanical, even in the 
most extended sense of the term, but must be referred 
to the power of the being itself, and not to extrinsic 
power of any kind. Every voluntary effort is put 
forth to gratify a want, to make the future in some 
respect different from what, but for the effort, it would 
be. To do this, always requires that the effort, or se- 
ries of efforts, should be adapted to the specific object, 
and that, in any series of them, each one should be in 
the appropriate consecutive order. There must be a 
mode or plan of action. This plan is either a part of 
our knowledge, or is formed by means of it. 

In all our actions, whether instinctive, rational, or 
habitual, we thus apply our knowledge to direct our 
efforts to the end desired, and there is not in the 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 233 

actions themselves, nor in their immediate antecedents, 
any difference whatever. In all of them it is but an 
effort suggested by the want, and directed to a given 
end by means of our knowledge. The difference is 
not in the action, nor in the knowledge, nor in the ap- 
plication of the knowledge, but one step farther back 
— in the manner in which we became possessed of the 
knowledge we apply. In a rational action we, by a 
preliminary effort, obtain this knowledge — we make 
the requisite plan. In the instinctive action this knowl- 
edge is innate ; the plan is ready formed in the mind, 
requiring no premeditation, no deliberation to deter- 
mine the mode of action. In the rational actions we 
acquire the knowledge of these plans for ourselves, 
and it is the preliminary effort to determine what to 
do, and how to do it — to find the mode of action — 
that tasks our intellectual abilities. But, when we 
have once formed the plan, and acted upon it often 
enough to remember its successive steps, so that we 
can repeat them in action by rote without any ref- 
erence to the rationale^ it becomes a plan ready 
formed in the mind, a,nd the acting upon it becomes 
habitual. The instinctive and habitual actions, then, 
are precisely alike in this, that both are in conformity 
to a plan ready formed in the mind, requiring no effort 
to form them for the occasion, and differ only in this, 
that in the instinctive we found the plan ready formed, 
while in the habitual we orngmally formed it by our 
own effort. If, after the latter plans had become fixed 
in our memory, we should forget that we had originally 
acquired them by our own effort, we would know no 
difference between the instinctive and habitual action. 
The popular consciousness of this similarity is ex- 
pressed in the common adage that habit is second 



234 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

nature. If this view, which seems to me to account 
for all the peculiarities of instinctive action, is correct, 
instinct is not a distinct faculty, capacity, property, or 
quality, of being, which may be compared with or sub- 
stituted for reason, but has relation only to the mode 
in which the knowledge by which we determine some 
of our actions was originally obtained. Whether the 
innate knowledge of modes and plans is by transmis- 
sion, or otherwise, does not aifect the theory. It is suf- 
ficient that they are thus ready formed in the being 
without effort of its own. 

All intelligent actions, except perhaps those which 
are merely imitative, must in the first instance be either 
instinctive or rational, the habitual coming later 
through the transformation of the others by repetition 
and memory ; the instinctive, however, not being ma- 
terially changed thereby. 

But the foundation of all our actions must be instinc- 
tive, there being no possible way in which we could ever 
learn that effort is the means of using either our mus- 
cular or mental powers. 

In regard to the rational actions, I see no distinction 
in kind, but only in degree, between those of man and 
the lower animals. Descending in the scale of intelli- 
gence, we may, and probably will, reach a grade of 
beings which do not invent or form plans to meet new 
occasions for action, and the efforts of such must be 
wholly instinctive; but I have seen both dogs and 
horses draw inferences, and work out ingenious plans 
of action, adapted to conditions so unusual and so im- 
probable to them, as to preclude the assumption that 
they had been specially provided by Nature, through 
hereditary transmission or otherwise, with the knowl- 
edge of the plan suited to the occasion. 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 235 

Professor Huxley asserts that Qiatter is a cause, a 
power not only in what is generally regaarded as its 
own sphere, but that it also produces all mental phe- 
nomena. At the same time, while admitting the con- 
sciousness — the intelligence — of man and brutes, he 
denies to them the faculty of will, thus virtually deny- 
ing to them any power. 

He thus raises the question as to the power of mat- 
ter, and also as to that of intelligent beings ; at least 
of beings of no higher grade than man. It is not very 
clear whether or not he denies all intelligent power. 
In saying he has with him '' Pere Malebranche, who 
saw all things in God," he seems to recognize a supreme 
power ; but then this power in his system might log- 
ically be but a deification of material forces, ignoring 
intelligent activity. 

Against attributing power to matter, we may urge 
that its existence as a distinct entity has never been 
proved, and is seriously questioned. To assume that 
so important a quality inheres, and especially to assume 
that it inheres only in something the existence of which 
is doubtful, when it may, with equal reason, be attrib- 
uted to something, the existence of which is admitted, 
would be a grave philosophical and logical mistake. 

Professor Huxley admits the existence of intelligent 
(conscious) beings, but perhaps does not admit that 
power may, with equal reason, be attributed to them, 
nor perhaps that there is any reasonable doubt as to the 
existence of matter as a distinct entity ; leaving these 
two questions open to discussion. In regard to the 
latter, he will probably admit that there is no decisive 
proof, and that the existence of matter is only an infer- 
ence from the sensations which we attribute to its 
agency. But all the phenomena of these sensations are 



236 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

as well accounted for on the hypothesis that they are 
directly produced in our minds by some intelligent 
power as that they are the effects of matter. 

If the material universe is regarded as the work of 
an intelligent Creator, working with design to produce 
a certain effect, then, upon either hypothesis, it is the 
expression of a conception of this Creator, existing as 
thought and imagery in his mind before he gave it pal- 
pable, tangible existence in ours, and the only question 
between the two modes is, whether, in making it pal- 
pable to us, he transfers this thought and imagery di- 
rectly to our minds, or first paints, moulds, or carves 
them in a distinct material substance. The external 
universe would not, in the first of these modes, be any 
the less real. The sensations, which are all that under 
either hypothesis concern us, or that we know anything 
about, would be the same in both cases. But we can 
no more impute power to such imagery than to an im- 
age in a mirror, and under this hypothesis material 
causation would have no existence. 

One consideration favoring the ideal theory is, that, 
under it, creation becomes more conceivable to us. 
We can, any of us, conceive or imagine a landscape, 
and vary its features at will. This is an incipient crea- 
tion, which, if we could impress it upon the mind of 
another, would be to him an external creation — to his 
vision as thoroughly material as the fields, and streams, 
and trees, he now looks out upon ; and, if from any 
cause it should become fixed in the mind of him that 
conceived it, so that he could not change it at will, it 
would become to him an external reality. And this 
sometimes happens in abnormal conditions of the mind. 
In order to thus create what, at least to the visual sense, 
would be an external material creation, the only addi- 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 237 

tion, then, which is required to the powers which we 
habitually exercise, is that of impressing our concep- 
tions upon others. With this addition we could create 
and give palpable existence to a universe, varying more 
or less from that now palpable to us. And this power 
of impressing our conceptions on others we are none of 
us wholly devoid of. Sculptors, painters, architects, 
and more especially poets, have it in marked degree. 

We, however, find no rudiment of force in these in- 
cipient creations of our own, and, hence, they furnish 
us with no logical ground for attributing it to similar 
and more perfect creations of a Superior Intelligence. 
That these creations of our own are mostly evanescent, 
and those to which, with great labor, we give a per- 
sistent reality are very limited and imperfect, does not 
disprove the position that creation is more conceivable 
to us upon the ideal hypothesis than upon the material. 
The ideal hypothesis is also commended by the consid- 
eration that man, having, in a finite degree, all the 
other powers usually attributed to the Supreme Intel- 
ligence, lacks, under the material theory, the power of 
creating matter. Corresponding to His omnipotence, 
omniscience, and omnipresence, man has finite power 
and finite knowledge, and can make all the objects of 
his knowledge present, which is equivalent to a finite 
presence, limited, like our other attributes, to the sphere 
of our knowledge. This hypothesis, then, rounds out 
our ideas of creative intelligence, relieving us of the 
anomaly of the creation of matter as a distinct entity, 
for which, having in ourselves no conscious rudiment 
of a power to accomplish, we cannot conceive the pos- 
sibility. 

I may further observe that, if I am right in suppos- 
ing that the only difference between our own incipient 



238 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

creations, of a landscape for instance, and the external 
scenery which we perceive, is that we can change the 
former at will, while the latter is fixed, it shows how 
narrow is the space that divides the creative powers of 
man from those of the Supreme Intelligence, and that 
the difference is mainly, if not entirely, in degree, and 
not in kind. This gives warrant to the logic, and 
shows how short the steps by which we attribute all 
creations and all changes, which we regard as beyond 
our own power and beyond that of other embodied 
intelligences known to us, to a superior intelligence, 
with the same powers which we possess and use to 
create and change, increased, I will not say infinitely, 
but to a degree correspon:iing to the effects which we 
see and ascribe to them. 

If the existence of matter be admitted, it mav 
still be urged that, being unintelligent, it can have no 
causative power, and can produce no change, for all 
changes in matter must be, by its motion, massive or 
atomic, and matter cannot move itself. 

Even if it could be imbued with motive power, it 
could have no in lucement, no tendency, to move in one 
direction rather than another ; and a tendency which 
is equal in all directions is no tendency in any direc- 
tion. If all matter were at this moment quiescent, 
even the materialists will not assert that it could of 
itself begin to move. 

It may, however, be urged that both the arguments 
thus drawn from the difficulty of conceiving the crea- 
tion of matter, and the necessity of motion to its causal 
power, may be met by the hypothesis that matter was 
not created, but has existed through a past eternity, 
and that its original condition was that of motion, and 
that there is no more difficulty in conceiving this than 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 239 

in conceiving that intelligence, with its activities, has 
had no beginning. 

But, granting that matter has always existed, and 
originally had motion, and consequent power, still, if 
the tendency is to expend and exhaust this power in 
producing effects, by collision or otherwise, or, admit- 
ting the conservation of force, if its tendency is to be- 
come merely potential, then the force which it origi- 
nally had, in virtue of being in motion, must, in the in- 
finite period of its existence, have been either wholly 
exhausted or reduced to an infinitesimal, requiring the 
intervention of some active power to again give it any 
practical force. 

But whether matter, supposing it to exist, can of it- 
self, by means of its motion, be an independent power 
or force, still depends on another question, viz.. Is the 
tendency of a body in motion, when the power which 
put it in motion is withdrawn, to continue to move, or to 
stop ? In other words, is the application of extrinsic 
power required to keep it in motion, or is such appli- 
cation required to stop it ? Having no power to move 
itself when once at rest, it could have no power to act, 
but could only be acted upon, and, if it has inertia, it 
would be a means of exhausting other force. 

If when once in motion its tendency is to continue 
in motion, then it could be used as an instrument by 
which intelligent power, putting it in motion, could ex- 
tend the effects of its own action in time and space. 

If the tendency is to stop, then it could have no 
power or force, in virtue of being in motion, and could 
not even be a means of extending the effects of the 
action of other powers, 

I have heretofore confessed my inability to solve 
this question as to the tendency of a moving body to 



240 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

continue its motion, or to stop when the motive power 
is withdrawn. I have not, perhaps, been able even to 
disentangle it from the empirical meshes in which it has 
become involved, and which, in my view, do not and 
cannot furnish any clew to its solution ; but, until this 
point is settled, I do not see how matter, though in mo- 
tion, can properly be regarded as a force, or even as a 
conserver of force, imparted to it by some other power. 

If matter in motion is power, then all its effects 
must be such as take place of necessity, it having no 
power to select or vary them, and, whatever the course 
of such effects, it cannot change. If, for instance, the 
moving body is approaching another body, then, as 
two bodies cannot occupy the same space, some effect 
must of necessity result from the collision ; and all the 
effects of unintelligent cause or force must be from 
some like necessity. In this case the material hypothe- 
sis has an advantage, there being no apparent connec- 
tion of necessity between an intelligent effort and its 
sequences. This, however, as matter cannot put itself 
in motion, nor, perhaps, even continue any motion im- 
parted to it, may only make it an instrument of other 
power, and not a power itself. 

Some of the considerations in favor of the existence 
of intelligent power have already incidentally arisen 
in connection with the question of the existence of 
material force, and others pertain to that of the will, 
to which we will now turn. 

The question which Professor Huxley raises is not 
merely. Does man will freely ? but, Does he will at 
all f If he recognizes any volition in us, it is a voli- 
tion in which we have no agency, but of which we are 
only conscious. 

Between the two questions, of not willing freely or 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 241 

not willing at all, there is perhaps little of practical 
importance ; for, if our actions are controlled by some 
extrinsic power or force, it is not important whether 
this control is exerted directly on or in the action, or 
indirectly through controlled will. It might, perhaps, 
even be properly urged that, philosophically as well as 
popularly, a willing which is not free is a willing 
which is not willing, and this would identify the two 
questions. 

Professor Huxley, from divers physical experi- 
ments, comes to the conclusion that animals, including 
man, do not will, bat that the effort-phenomena, of 
which we are conscious, are only a series, or the effect 
of a series, of mechanical changes of matter, over 
which we have no control. He admits that we have 
knowledge and feeling, and there is no difficulty in 
conceiving that these may exist without will, though 
the existence of either feeling or will without knowl- 
edge is impossible. 

To most persons the actual making of an effort, or 
willing, seems to be as fully attested by their con- 
sciousness as a sensation is ; and there is high philo- 
sophical authority for putting it in that category, in 
regard to which the consciousness is positively and of 
necessity conclusive. It seems to me, however, that 
there is room for a distinction between the conscious- 
ness of effort and the effort itself. If the changes, 
which seem to us to be the consequences of our effort 
put forth with a preconception of these changes, and 
for the purpose of producing them, are really caused 
by some extrinsic power or force acting through us, 
it is quite conceivable that such a power, especially if 
intelligent, may impress us with the emotion of mak- 
ing an effort when we make none, though I see no 



242 ANLUALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

reason why such a circuitous mode of action should be 
adopted. But, though the consciousness of making an 
effort is not conclusive as to the actual making, still, 
as it is of internal phenomena, it is evidence of a 
higher order than that which consciousness of a sensa- 
tion gives as to the existence or character of the ex- 
ternal phenomena. 

The senses through which the external is presented 
may not act perfectly ; and this, as compared with the 
consciousness of internal phenomena, makes an addi- 
tional risk of error similar to that which arises from 
seeing an object through glass or in the reflection of a 
mirror, instead of directly without any intervening 
medium. 

Those, then, who set up physical phenomena against 
our consciousness of effort, labor under the disadvan- 
tage of impeaching the accuracy of the testimony by 
other testimony which is less reliable than that which 
they impeach. 

Professor Huxley admits that men and other ani- 
mals know and feel. The existence, then, of that for 
which poiuer hy effort is claimed as an attribute, with 
these prerequisites to its exercise, is admitted. 

On the other hand, any belief in matter or in its 
motion is but an inference from our sensations, which, 
as we have seen, is not a necessary or conclusive infer- 
ence ; and hence we have no reliable evidence of the 
existence of matter, nor of the attributes which, if it 
exists, are essential to its having power. 

In the first case, we know the existence of the ac- 
tive agent ; its feeling, subjecting it to want ; and its 
knowledge, enabling it to adopt a mode of gratifying 
its want ; which are all the elements which are requi- 
site to the exercise of a power by effort ; and though 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 243 

we have no conclusive proof that it actually makes the 
effort, the testimony in regard to this, for reasons al- 
ready stated, is more reliable than the inferences from 
our sensations, that matter exists, and that it moves, 
and that one portion impinges on another portion : all 
of which are essential to material causation. In the 
first case, the existence of the agent, with all the pre- 
requisites to the exercise of power, is known. In the 
latter, not a single one of them is known. This shows 
that the material phenomena which Professor Huxley 
presents are not, in this case, sufficient to rebut the 
testioionv of consciousness that we do w ill — do make 
effort, and thereby produce change. 

The further question. Do we ourselves determine 
our efforts ? is identical with that of our freedom in 
willing, which I do not propose here to discuss ; but 
will remark that it is not probable, perhaps it is not 
conceivable, that any unintelligent agent should create 
the whole system of wants, knowledge, and the appli- 
cation of knowledge involved in an effort, as just 
stated, and impress the icJiole as illusions on the mind 
of the actor ; nor yet, that any blind force should di- 
rect the effort in exact conformity to the wishes and 
the preconceptions of the manner and the effect which 
are in the thoughts of him who has the emotion of 
making an effort, and which the unintelligent power, 
or agent, of course cannot know. Only an intelligent 
agent could know this ; and, if the conforming of the 
effort to this want, knowledge, and preconception of 
the effect, must be referred to some intelligent being, 
it seems most reasonable to refer it to that which 
directly feels its own want, knows its owti perceptions 
of the mode of gratifying the want, and its preconcep- 
tions of the effect to be produced, to which all the 



244 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

effort is to be conformed, and which, at the same time, 
is conscious of making the effort, and of thus conform- 
ing and directing it by its own knowledge. Between 
the sensation of making the effort, and the antecedent 
and subsequent knowledge of the subject of this sen- 
sation, there is a harmony which it seems hardly con- 
ceivable should be produced by any power not having 
this particular knowledge, and much less by a power 
incapable of knowing anything. 

As germane to the whole question of intelligent and 
material power, I will suggest that it would be un- 
philosophical to assume the existence of two primary 
powers, when one is sufficient to account for all the 
phenomena, and that as it seems hardly conceivable 
that matter should create intelligence with its phe- 
nomena — that what does not know should create a 
power to know — while, as already shown, it is quite 
conceivable that intelligence should create all that we 
know of matter and its phenomena, the hypothesis 
of power in matter should, on this ground, be dis- 
carded. 

Let us now look at the very curious and interesting 
experiments upon which Professor Huxley relies for 
his conclusion that animals, including man, are '' con- 
scious automata." He says that, if, when a man is so 
paralyzed that he is wholly unable to move his limbs, 
and has no sensation in them, '' you tickle the soles of 
his feet with a feather, the limbs will be drawn up just 
as vigorously, perhaps a little more vigorously, than 
when he was in full possession of the consciousness of 
what happened to him." He also states that, in the 
case of a frog similarly paralyzed, the result of irritat- 
ing the skin of the foot is the same : in both cases the 
foot being drawn ^rom the source of irritation. This 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 245 

certainly bears a very close resemblance to the volun- 
tary action of an intelligent being, conscious of the 
irritation, and seeking relief from it by its own efforts. 
Professor Huxley, however, positively asserts that the 
animal could not feel or will, and this being so, he 
seems to be justified, by common usage, in calling the 
action "mechanical." But, as I have already sug- 
gested, this term is applied to material phenomena, 
whether they are results of matter in motion, or of the 
uniform modes of God's action. 

Other experiments still more remarkable are pre- 
sented. He says : " Take this creature (the same 
frog), which certainly cannot feel, and touch the skin 
of the side of its body with a little acetic acid, which 
in a frog that could feel w^ould give rise to great pain. 
In this case there can be no pain. . . . Nevertheless, 
the frog lifts up the limb on the same side, and applies 
the foot to rubbing off the acetic acid ; and what is 
still more remarkable, if you hold down the limb, so 
that the frog cannot use it, he will, by-and-by, take 
the limb of the other side and turn it across the body, 
and use it for the same rubbing process." 

This goes a step further, requiring a more compli- 
cated mechanism to direct the force, when it fails to 
move one foot, to the movement of the other. In still 
another case, he says : " Suppose the foremost two 
thirds of the brain taken away, the frog is then abso- 
lutely devoid of any spontaneity ; it will remain for- 
ever where you leave it; it will not stir, unless it is 
touched ; . . . but, ... if you throw it in the water, 
it begins to swim — swims just as well as the perfect 
frog does ; ... and the only way we can account for 
this is, that the impression made on the sensory nerves 
of the skin of the frog by the contact of the water 



246 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

conveys to the central nervous apparatus a stimulus 
which sets going a certain m^acJiinery by which all the 
muscle^ of swimming are brought into play in due or- 
der of succession. Moreover, if the frog be stimu- 
lated, be touched by some irritating body, although we 
are quite certain it cannot feel, it jumps or walks as 
well as the complete frog can do." 

Most persons, I presume, have seen men and other 
animals made so torpid by injury or disease, that they 
would show little sign of vitality, and great indispo- 
sition to make any effort, but that they still moved 
when pricked with a pin has been generally regarded 
as evidence that they still felt ; and the movements 
they would make to avoid danger, or escape pain, have 
been thought to be conclusive that they were not " ab- 
solutely devoid of any spontaneity." 

It is not uncommon for a man, who, in ordinary cir- 
cumstances, seemed wholly unable to move his limbs, 
under great or sudden excitement, as the approach of 
fire or sudden apprehension of drowning, to make vig- 
orous and successful muscular efforts. 

The common observer, then, would infer from the 
foregoing experiments that Professor Huxley was not 
justified in inferring, from the fact of mutilation, that 
the frog was " absolutely devoid of any spontaneity," 
and that " we are quite certain it cannot feel." If the 
facts stated do not prove that the frog still feels, still 
wills, and still has knowledge to direct its efforts to 
get rid of the irritation, it seems difficult to devise any 
mode of proof that a being ever feels, knows, or wills. 
Professor Huxley admits that we do feel and know, 
but infers from these experiments that we do not will. 
If his theory of them is correct, they seem to afford 
little ground for this distinction. 



ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 247 

Professor Huxley, in still another case, says of a 
frog deprived of the most anterior portion of the 
brain, that " it will sit forever in the same spot. It 
sees nothing, it hears nothing," yet placed on the hand 
would, on the turning of the hand, make all the move- 
ments necessary to prevent its falling off, and that 
"these movements are performed with the utmost 
steadiness and precision, and you may vary the posi- 
tion of your hand, and the frog, so long as you are 
reasonably slow in your movements, will work back- 
ward and forward like a doch'' Referring to this 
experiment, Professor Huxley afterward says : " If 
the frog were a philosopher, he might reason thus : 
' I feel myself uncomfortable and slipping, and, feeling 
myself uncomfortable, I put my legs out to save my- 
self, knowing that I shall tumble if I do not put them 
farther. I put them farther still, and my volition 
brings about all these beautiful adjustments which 
result in my sitting safely ! ' But if the frog so rea- 
soned, he would be entirely mistaken, for the frog does 
the thing just as well when he has no reason, no sen- 
sation, no possibility of thought of any kind. The 
only conclusion, then, at which there seems any good 
ground for arriving is, that animals are machines, but 
that they are conscious machines." And he after- 
ward says : " Undoubtedly, I do hold that the view 
I have taken of the relations between the physical and 
mental faculties of brutes applies in its fullness and 
entirety to man." Of this last experiment Professor 
Huxley further says : " And what is still more won- 
derful is, that if you put the frog on a table, and put 
a book between him and the light, and give him a 
little jog behind, he will jump (take a long jump, very 
possibly), but he won't jump against this book, he will 



248 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA, 

jump to the right or to the left, but he will get out of 
the way, showing that, although he is absolutely insen- 
sible to ordinary impressions of light, there is still 
something which passes through the sensory nerve, acts 
upon the machinery of his nervous system, and causes 
it to adapt itself to the proper action." This is cer- 
tainly very wonderful, and becomes even more so 
when taken in connection with the next case — that of 
a man who had been shot in the head, and who. Pro- 
fessor Huxley says, ^' is in a condition absolutely par- 
allel to that of the frog," but afterward says, '' very 
nearly " in the same condition ; and also says, '' he has 
only one sense organ in a state of activity, namely, 
that of touch, which is exceedingly delicate." Yet of 
this man, thus described as virtually in the same con- 
dition as the frog, except that he has a very delicate 
sense of touch, we are told that, '' if an obstacle is put 
in his way, he knocks against it, feels it, and goes fco 
one side ; if you push him in any direction, he goes 
straight on until something stops him." 

It is certainly very remarkable that the frog, with 
no sense at all, avoids leaping against the obstruction, 
while the man, with a delicate sense of touch, and 
other conditions parallel or very nearly the same as 
the frog, knocks against it. It must be a very curious 
mechanism which can make such discrimination in 
the effects of his action. ^^ 

Let us examine the case of the frog a little further. 
Professor Huxley ascribes its leaping obliquely and 
not directly forward to " a something which passes 
through the sensory nerve, acts upon the machinery 
of his nervous system, and causes it to adapt itself to 
the proper action," and this " although he is abso- 
lutely insensible to ordinary impressions of light." 



A A7 MA L S I\OT ACJ TOM A TA. 249 

Does Professor Huxley mean that this ^' something " 
passes through the book, and thus reaches the sensory 
nerve, and that, but for the intervening book, it would 
not pass that way ? Under some circumstances, it 
might be that a conductor would facilitate the passage 
of a '' sometiiing " which would not pass through the 
air, but in this case there is the difficulty of getting 
this " something " to the book, and then of. sending it 
forward through the air. The only alternative seems 
to be to suppose that when there was no intervening 
book, a " something " passed to the frog which was 
necessary to cause it to jump directly forward, the 
passage of which the book prevented. Neither of 
these hypotheses seems satisfactory, even if no objec- 
tion is made to the unknown '^ something." 

To those skilled in scientific investigation it may 
not appear important, but I apprehend that aiany, 
like myself, not familiar with its modes, will regret 
that the experiment in this case was not pushed some- 
\7hat further. To find, for instance, what would be 
the effect when the obstruction extended equally to the 
right and to the left ? What if it extended indefinitely 
both ways ? And what, when it made an entire circle 
around the frog in the centre ; and what if in different 
positions other than the centre. 

But, even admitting, in all the eases, all that Profes- 
sor Huxley claims as ascertained facts, what does it all 
amount to further than that he has brought to light 
some additional phenomena which, like the movements 
of the material universe and the pulsations of the 
heart, must be referred to some inscrutable agency? 
He who believes only in intelligent powers refers 
them, with all else that he does not effect by his own 
efforts, and which he regards as beyond the power of 



250 ANIMALS NOT A UTOMA TA, 

any known embodied intelligence, to a Superior Intel- 
ligence, acting through the instrumentality of matter 
or otherwise ; while he who believes only in material 
causation attributes them to the influence of matter, in 
some form or some mode of its movement differing 
from those forms and modes which are familiar to him. 
Nor is it material how many steps there may be be- 
tween the power applied and the effect. If there are 
three or thirty ivory balls in a right line, and the first 
of them is put in motion causing each one successively 
to impinge on the next, the final effect of motion in 
the last is caused by the power applied to the first. 
We may by our own efforts put the alleged power of 
matter in action, or may thus act through the uniform 
modes of God's action. 

In voluntary muscular movement the intermediate 
effect of a flow of blood to the contracting muscle has 
long been known ; now, the propagation of molecular 
movement is ascertained. That we are not conscious 
of the movement of the molecules indicates (though 
far from conclusively) that we do not ourselves move 
them, but this does not indicate that the muscular 
movement is not the result of our own effort work- 
ing through other agencies. That he who throws the 
stone which kills a bird does not know what curve the 
stone will describe, nor by what power its motion is 
continued after it leaves his hand, does not show that 
he is not the cause of the killing. 

If the knowledge of the intermediate changes is a 
necessary condition to the exercise of the power which 
produces the final result, what becomes of the hy- 
pothesis of causation by material movements, or forces, 
which know nothing ? In regard to the special phe- 
nomena in hand, it would seem that no power less 



A MM A LS NOT A UTOMA TA . 251 

facile, or less variable and adjustable in its application 
than that of intelligent effort, could be adequate ; and 
that no blind power or force, the effects of which 
must of necessity be uniform, could, from the same 
conditions, j)roduce such diverse effects as those attri- 
buted to the man and the frog. 

Considering the clear line of demarcation which 
there is between those cases of change for which we 
are conscious of making effort and those for which 
we are not, I do not see how the discovery of any 
number of cases of the latter discredits the testimony 
of consciousness as to the former. All this exhibition 
of material phenomena, then, really weighs very little 
on either side of the question as to the existence of in- 
telligent or material causality ; and this little, I think, 
may be fairly claimed on the side of the intelligent. 

There is another criterion which, as Professor Hux- 
ley, in applying a somewhat analogous test, has very ap- 
propriately said, '' though it could not be used in deal- 
ing with questions which are susceptible of demonstra- 
tion, is well worthy of consideration in a case like the 
present." I cannot demonstrate, but I have great faith 
in the proposition that all progress in truth will increase 
the happiness and conduce to the elevation of man. 
I also have some faith in the converse of this proposi- 
tion — that whatever tends to diminish our happiness 
and degrade our position will be found to be not true. 

In this case, by adopting Professor Huxley's views, 
we should be deprived of all the dignity of conscious 
power, and with it of all the cheering and elevating 
influences of the performance of duty ; for that which 
has no power can have no duties. Instead of compan- 
ionship with a Superior Intelligence, communicating 
his thoughts to us in the grandeur and beauty of the 



252 ANIMALS NOT AUTOMATA. 

material universe — the poetic imagery, the poetic 
language, of which it is the pure and perfect type — 
and in his yet higher and more immediate manifesta- 
tions in the soul, we should be doomed to an inolori- 
ous fellowship with insensate matter, and subjected to 
its blind forces. That sublime power — that grandeur 
of effort by which the gifted logician, with resistless 
demonstration, permeates and illuminates realms which 
it tasks the imagination to traverse ; and that yet more 
God-like power by which the poet commands light to 
be, and light breaks through chaos upon his beautiful 
creations, would no more awaken our admiration, or 
incite us to lofty effort. We should be degraded from 
the high and responsible position of independent 
powers in the universe — co-workers with God in cre- 
ating the future — to a condition of mere machines 
and instruments operated by '' stimuli " and '' mole- 
cules " ; and, though still with knowledge and sensi- 
bility to know and feel our degraded position — "so 
abject, yet alive ! " — with no power to apply our 
knowledge in effort to extricate, and to elevate our- 
selves. We might still have the knowledge of good 
and evil ; but, having no power to foster the one, or to 
resist the other, this knowledge, with all its inestima- 
ble consequences — all the aspirations wdiich it awak- 
ens, and all the incentives to noble deeds which it, 
in combination with effort, alone makes possible — 
would be lost. And with it, we might almost say, 
there would again be no death, for all mutation now 
being but changes in the indestructible atoms of mat- 
ter, by means of its motion, also indestructible and 
eternal, there would be little left to die, as there would 
again be little left to live for. For all this, I see no 
compensation in the doctrines now so clearly and 
frankly presented. 



LETTER ON CAUSATION. 



Peace Dai.e, Rhode Island, July 19, 1877. 

My dear Sir : I have read with interest your 
pamphlet " On Liability," etc., and am much impressed 
with the importance of the questions therein discussed. 
In compliance with your request I submit the follow- 
ing synopsis of such of my views on '^ causation" as 
seem to me most germane to the particular phase of 
the subject you are examining ; 

Cause is that which produces change. 

An act of will is simply an effort. All effort is of 
the mind, and is the only causation of which we are 
directly conscious. As we know nothing of its nexus 
with the immediate effect, it is, so far as we know, our 
ultimate agency in producing the effect. 

The object and intent of an effort is always to make 
the future different from what it otherwise would be. 
This is the only conceivable motive. 

Freedom, as applied to willing, does not imply no 
control, but se//-control. 

A being with a desire or want for some change, a 
faculty of will or effort, and knowledge to direct its 
effort to the gratification of its want, is a self-active 
cause, which can act (i. e. make effort, which is the 
only causative act known to us) without being first 
acted upon — could act if there were no other power, 
and nothing but passive, inert conditions to be acted 



254 LETTER ON CAUSATION. 

upon and changed. Hence such a being may deter- 
mine its own effort — may will freely. 

The only other conceivable cause is matter in motion ; 
but, as matter cannot move itself, it cannot, like intel- 
ligent will, be an originating cause. As its conditions 
of motion are as fixed and as unchangeable, by itself, 
as its conditions of rest, matter, even in motion, may 
still be properly regarded as but one of the passive 
conditions to be acted upon and changed by intelligent 
effort, which can increase, retard, arrest, or change the 
direction of a moving body, as it can impart motion 
and give direction to one at rest. 

As matter cannot move itself, its causative power in 
motion (if it have any) is due to the efficient cause 
which put it in motion, and matter is thus rather an 
instrument by which intelligent cause extends the ef- 
fects of its own action than a cause itself, and for these 
effects the intelligent being that put it in motion is 
responsible. 

A being thus constituted with want, intelligence, and 
a faculty of effort, being self-active, self-controlling, is 
an independent power, freely doing a part in creating 
or moulding the future, which is thus the composite 
result of all such active agencies. All change being, 
in our conception, identified with time, this creating 
of the future is the only creating which is conceivable 
to us ; and in this we each perform a part. 

There is no conceivable mode of constraining or 
compelling the will. A coerced willing is an absurdity 
in idea and a contradiction in terms. It is willing 
when we are not willing. Every being that wills, by 
means of its knowledge, freely determines what change 
in the existing or expected conditions it will seek to 
produce ; and, by means of its knowledge, it also di- 



LETTER ON CAUSATION, 255 

rects Its effort to produce this change. This indicates 
that the only mode by which the will can be changed 
or influenced is by changing — ^. e. adding to — the 
knowledge of the willing agent. New knowledge as 
to the existing or expected conditions may be directly 
imparted; or, the existing conditions may be so 
changed that the knowledge, conformed to them by the 
perceptions of the active agent, will be different. The 
restraining influence of statute-laws is wholly iu such 
change of knowledge. 

Every intelligent being will, with more or less of 
wisdom, conform his action to existing conditions, and, 
hence, one of the most common modes of influencing 
his willing is to change the conditions ; but no change 
in the conditions impairs his freedom in acting upon 
them. He freely conforms his effort to any change in 
the circumstances, and acts just as freely upon one set 
of them as upon any other set. It is because he freely 
determines his own action by means of his own knowl- 
edge, that his action may thus be influenced by the 
change in his knowledge, affected by change in the cir- 
cumstances, or otherwise. His knowledge, not being 
subject to his will, may be changed whether he will it or 
not. Hence he who changes the knowledge of another 
is often justly responsible for the action of this other, 
thousfh there was no interference with his freedom. 

Nor does the greater or less extent of his knowledge 
or intelligence vary his freedom in willing. To make 
effort for anv desired effect he must know some mode 
of action by which it shall at least seem to him possi- 
ble that the result sought may be reached ; and igno- 
rance of modes may thus lessen his sphere of action, 
but in that sphere, thus always coextensive with his 
knowledge, he is as free as though he were omniscient. 



256 LETTER ON CAUSATION. 

Nor does the moral debasement or elevation of a 
man's character affect his freedom in willing. A 
demon is as free as an angel. 

In these views, which present man as an independent 
power in the universe, whose J'reedom in effort cannot 
be infringed by any other power, nor restricted by cir- 
cumstances, nor diminished by moral debasement, and 
which even his own ignorance, though it lessens his 
power and limits his sphere of action, does not impair, 
we have a broad and firm foundation for holding him 
responsible for the results of his efforts in that future 
the creation and moulding of which is always the object 
and effect of his effort. 

In opposition to these views the advocates of neces- 
sity, and the materialistic philosophers generally, hold 
that the existing phenomena, including the volitions of 
intelligent beings, are always the necessary sequences 
of their antecedents, determining a certain flow of 
events in which the volitions of intelliefent beinofs are 
necessary effects of the past^ and not free, originating 
causes of the Juture. For such necessitated action, or 
its results, the being in which it is manifested can no 
more be accountable than for the destruction of a build- 
ing to which his body had served as a conductor of the 
lightning which consumed it. 

One form of this theory is thus stated by Mill : 
"The real cause is the whole of the antecedents." 
This does not discriminate between the passive condi- 
tions which by their inertia resist change, and the ac- 
tive agency which changes them. As uniform antece- 
dents it makes life the cause of death ; day and night 
reciprocally the causes of each other ; and the increas- 
ing light of dawn the cause of the sun's rising. An 
essential adjunct to this theory is that the same causes 



LETTER ON CAUSATION. 257 

necessarily loroduce the same effect. Without this 
there is not even the semblance of anything to give a 
direction to the alleged force (whatever it may be) of 
the blind antecedents which, under this theory, are the 
creative cause of the future ; and any force exerted 
equally in all directions neutralizes itself. This law of 
necessary uniformity seems to be applied to blind forces 
as a substitute for the discretion of free intelligent 
causes. With this adjunct of necessary uniformity it 
is obvious that, if the '' cause is the whole of the ante- 
cedents," then, as at each instant the whole antecedents 
are everywhere the same, the effect would everywhere 
be the same. Throughout the universe there could be 
only one and the same effect at the same time. 

But it is also obvious that in this theory of the 
" whole antecedents " there can be no possible applica- 
tion of the law '' that the same causes produce the same 
effects ;" for the moment the cause — the whole of the 
antecedents — has once acted, its action and its effect 
are added to, and change, the cause, so that the same 
cause can never act a second time, and this law of uni- 
formity cannot, under this theory, determine the direc- 
tion of the future events, or even indicate what it will 
be. There are various phases of the theory that make 
the whole existing conditions the cause of the changes 
in themselves, w^hich I have elsewhere considered ; but 
it will, perhaps, be sufficient for our present purpose 
to say that all of material causation and effects must 
be from matter in motion ; that matter cannot move 
itself ; and, if it could so move, could not determine 
its direction ; and any self-moving powder in it would 
be equal in all directions, and neutralize itself. And to 
say that the '' whole antecedents" include intelligent 
action, which may move inert matter and direct its blind 



258 LETTER ON CAUSATION. 

force, would be to yield the whole position, and admit 
that intelligence in effect is the only real cause ; for 
that which directs and determines a force to a partic- 
ular result is the cause of that result, and is certainly 
that which is accountable for it. In these positions, 
which 1 have heretofore more fully discussed, we have 
eliminated material causation, the influence of circum- 
stances, or the conditions to be acted upon, as also 
the moral and intellectual characteristics of the active 
agent, and, so far, much simplified the problem of re- 
sponsibility for action and its results. It must rest on 
some intelligent being that wills. 

On the other hand, in regarding the future as the 
composite result of all such intelligent activity, we en- 
counter the difficulties of a causal responsibility, divided 
as to the aggregate, and often also as to the particular 
results. In distributing this responsibility we must 
often consider the right or wrong of the divers acts 
leading to the result. 

The elements of action in each individual are the 
same — a want, ability for effort, and knowledge to 
direct his effort to the gratification of his want. The 
want is always, in the last analysis, to make the future 
different from what it otherwise would be ; and, hence, 
to determine in what he will try to make the future 
different, or whether to make any effort at all, he must 
have some notion of what the future will be without 
his agency, and in this notion his prescience, more or 
less reliable, as to what others will do, is a very im- 
portant factor. I have heretofore argued that the pos- 
tulate " that the same causes necessarily produce the 
same effect," so much relied upon for this prescience, 
has no sufficient foundation in fact or logic, but that, in 
the action of intelligent agents (the real causes), there 



LETTER ON CAUSATION. 259 

is only a voluntary uniformity wliich furnishes a ground 
for probable prediction. This is especially the case in 
regard to the action of the Supreme Intelligence — 
perhaps because He would, in the first instance, without 
experiment, know the wisest and best mode, and then 
and after adopt it ; or, perhaps because such uniform- 
ity is essential to the existence of finite free agents. 
We act in reference to, or through, His uniform modes 
— the laws of Nature — and would make no effort if 
in these there was no reliable uniformity, and the 
result would as probably be the reverse of what we 
desired as otherwise. This would bar all finite effort, 
and human labor would cease. 

So far as these uniform modes are known — and sci- 
ence is continually extending our knowledge of them — 
we are bound to recognize them and govern our own 
actions with reasonable reference to them — e. ^., it 
may now, in some cases, be a man's duty to erect a 
lightning-rod. 

The same rule applies to those rightful actions of 
other persons which are so far uniform, or within the 
range of probability, that they may reasonably be ex- 
pected. And we must thus regard even these uniform 
modes of the lower order of intelligence, to whose acts 
the laws of moral right and wrong are not applied, but 
whose efforts, directed by their knowledge to the grat- 
ification of their wants, still make the future different 
from what it otherwise would be. But brutes are re- 
strained from harmful efforts to gratify their wants, 
not by written laws, but by physical obstruction, as 
are idiots and lunatics who cannot comprehend laws, 
and as criminals who in act have refused to conform 
to them. This brings into view the difference between 
the rational actions and the instinctive, which, though 



260 LETTER ON CAUSATION. 

in a less ratio, obtain in man as well as in the lower 
animals. 

In regard to this difference I believe there is much 
popular error, and even so advanced a thinker as Pro- 
fessor Huxley has recently stated, as his settled con- 
viction, that instinctive actions are wholly mechanical, 
and that such is the common belief. Many other emi- 
nent philosophers have held, and still hold, this view. 
The problem has very direct relations to our ability to 
control such actions, and on our responsibility for them 
and their consequences. If they are the result of a 
mechanism not subject to intelligent will, restraining 
laws in regard to them will be of no avail, and the only 
protection is in physical restraint or obstruction. 

In reply to Huxley I have urged that no mechanical 
contrivance has any power in itself, but is only a 
means which intelligent power uses, or through which 
it acts — that our every act, whether instinctive, ra- 
tional, or habitual, is always an effort inspired by a 
want and directed by means of our knowledge. The 
difference between any two of these kinds of action is 
not in the want, the effort, or the creative knowledge, 
nor yet in the application of the knowledge, but one 
step further back — in the manner in which we became 
possessed of the knowledge we apply. In each case 
this knowledge must be of a mode or plan of action. 
In a rational action we, by a preliminary effort, obtain 
this knowledge — we make the requisite plan. In the 
instinctive action this knowledge is innate ; the plan 
is ready formed in the mind, requiring no premedita- 
tion, no deliberation, to determine the mode of action. 
In the rational actions we acquire the knowledge of 
these plans for ourselves, and it is the preliminary ef- 
fort to determine what to do, and how to do it — to 



LETTER ON CAUSATION. 261 

find the mode of action — that tasks our intellectual 
abilities. But, when we have once formed the plan 
and acted upon it often enough to remember its suc- 
cessive steps, so that we can repeat them in action by 
rote without any reference to the rationale^ it becomes 
a plan ready formed in the mind, and the acting upon 
it becomes habitual. The instinctive and habitual 
actions, then, are precisely alike in this : that both are 
in conformity to a plan ready formed in the mind, re- 
quiring no effort to form them for the occasion ; and 
differ only in this: that in the instinctive we found 
the plan ready formed, w^iile in the habitual we origi- 
nally formed it by our own effort. If, after the latter 
plans had become fixed in our memory, we should for- 
get that we had originally acquired them by our own 
effort, we would know no difference between the in- 
stinctive and habitual action. 

The popular consciousness of this similarity is ex- 
pressed in the common adage that habit is second na- 
ture. If this view, which seems to me to account for 
all the peculiarities of instinctive action, is correct, in- 
stinct is not a distinct faculty, capacity, property, or 
quality of being, which may be compared with, or sub- 
stituted for, reason, but has relation only to the mode 
in which the knowledge by which we determine some 
of our actions was originally obtained. Whether the 
innate knowledge of modes and plans is by transmis- 
sion or otherwise, does not affect the theory. It is 
sufficient that they are thus ready formed in the being 
without effort of its own. The phenomenal difference 
between rational and instinctive actions has, usually 
and very naturally, been sought in the actions them- 
selves, in which, if these views I have just stated are 
correct, it would not be found, for the reason that 
there is really no difference in them. 



262 LETTER ON CAUSATION. 

These acts, then, are all equally free acts of the 
intelligent actor, and equally subject to his control. 
The instinctive and habitual, however, require no pre- 
liminary effort to form the plan, and, hence, involve 
less deliberation ; but this facility, though it may miti- 
gate blame, makes them more, rather than less, prop- 
erly the subjects of legal restraint. 

I do not propose to follow these views in their appli- 
cation to practical affairs, but a few simple cases may 
illustrate what I have so crudely stated: Suppose A, 
in his field, throws a stone towards a quagmire, and B, 
by a blow, so changes its direction that it breaks his 
neighbor's window; the action of A, being in itself 
rightful, and having no tendency to cause the damage, 
is strictly chargeable to B, as really the sole cause of 
it. Again, suppose a man throws a stone directly into 
his neighbor's window ; he may say, '' I exerted no in- 
fluence upon that stone after it left my hand. Its 
movement thereafter was either by the direct action 
or the pre-contrivance of some other intelligence be- 
yond my control ; it was the act of God." Still it was 
a uniform mode of His action, which, however inscru- 
table in its mode, was empirically well known. The 
rightfulness of the act cannot be questioned ; and but 
for such uniformity there would be no incentive to hu- 
man effort. We are bound, in deciding our own ac- 
tions, to regard those uniform modes, and the whole 
blame is upon him who, with such prevision, has done 
the act which, thus supplemented by the uniform ac- 
tion of the Supreme Intelligence, has done the damage. 

So, too, a railroad company uniformly and right- 
fully running its trains is performing a beneficial ser- 
vice to the public, in which its uniformity is very im- 
portant. The farmers remote from consumers would 



LETTER ON CAUSATION, 263 

make no effort to produce surplus food if they could 
not depend on the road to get it to market. There 
would be a loss of labor. In the daily running of its 
trains the public good requires uniformity, which could 
not be attained if it w^ere necessary every trip to ascer- 
tain if some one had left combustible matter near the 
track, and, if so, to delay the trains till it could be 
removed. In the in itself rightful and useful act of 
procuring hemlock timber, the refuse branches left on 
the ground may have made a long train of very com- 
bustible material, which a spark may ignite and occa- 
sion damage to a ruinous amount. The analogy I have 
presented suggests that the person cutting the timber 
should so direct his action that no such risk of damage 
should attend the uniform running of the trains. But 
I am aware that such analogies are often fallacious, 
and I do not propose to attempt the solution of ques- 
tions new to me, and requiring, even from those famil- 
iar with such subjects, much laborious and patient in- 
vestigation. 

I will be glad if this statement of my views shall aid 
you in the work, or in any way interest you. 

Yours very truly, 

E. G. Hazard. 

To Francis Wharton, LL. D. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

TWO DISCOURSES DELIVERED AT CONCORD, MASS. 

JULY, 1882. 



DISCOURSE L 

MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE.^ 

§ 1. In the preface to " Freedom of Mind in Will- 
ing" I have spoken of the general indifference to 
metaphysical pursuits ; attributing it, in part, to the 
more easily appreciated discoveries in physical science, 
and their immediate contributions to our material com- 

Pkeface to First Edition. — In these discourses I have intended 
briefly to present the leading results of the previous investigations, 
most of which had already been published ; but more especially to 
vindicate metaphysical science from the charge of being unfruitful, 
by showing that in its proper application to the subject of its investi- 
gation, it is susceptible of the highest practical utility. 

I have endeavored to show that, to say nothing of the invigorating 
exercise of such study, it may be a means of making the same amount 
of intellectual power more effective, by the invention or discovery of 
better methods in its application ; and further, that in this its own 
proper realm — the realm of the spirit — it may achieve a yet higher 
utility, a utility transcending all other, in creating, moulding, and ele- 
vating the moral character. I have also pointed out some modes in 
which the creative powers of mind may be successfully exerted for 
these objects. 

Peace Dale, Rhode Island, 
September, 1883. 

1 See Note I. p. 337. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 265 

forts. The inventions, by means of which these com- 
forts have been so largely increased, are the result of 
the application of the intellect to the study of matter. 
But if, as I have suggested, the study of the mind may 
elicit practical modes of increasing the efficiency of the 
intellect, then this study, which thus improves that 
which achieves all other improvement — which invents 
inventive power — may, even in its relation to the 
most materialistic utility, become the first and most 
important factor. 

This, however, is merely incidental to the higher 
purpose of increasing the mind's power for the discov- 
ery of truth generally, to which it should be subordi- 
nated and made subservient. 

But beyond and above all such comparatively grovel- 
ling application to our bodily wants, which philosophy 
once disdained, — beyond and above even the increase 
of intellectual power, — I hope, in furtherance of 
what I have heretofore suggested, to show more fully 
that the special field of ^netaijhy sical ittility is in our 
moral nature ; that every one has within himself a 
domain, as illimitable as that of the external, in which 
to exert his energies in the construction of a moral 
universe ; and that within this domain, the finite intel- 
ligence is not only a creative, but a supreme creative 
power, and that therein, by the exercise of its faculties 
upon itself, it may devise or discover and impart new 
modes of forming and moulding the moral character, 
and thus supply a demand which, always important, 
has now, by our progress in other directions, become 
the prominent and urgent necessity of our time. 

§ 2. The mind, like all other objects of its knowl- 
edge, is itself known only b}^ its properties. These, 
as directly revealed in consciousness, are Knowledge, 



266 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

Feeling, and Volition. It knows, feels, and wills. In 
knowing or in feeling it is not active, but passively 
perceives and feels. The will is its only real faculty/. 
By this alone it acts. An act of will is simply an ef- 
fort of the mind — an effort of the intelligent being — 
to do. 

When we speak of an effort of memory, or imagi- 
nation, or judgment, we only mean that we make ef- 
fort to remember, to imagine, or to judge. We distin- 
guish the particular effort by its object or design. But 
the effort is by the intelligent being, and the whole in- 
telligent being acting as a unit ; and when we speak 
of bodily effort we do not mean an effort made by the 
body, but the mind's effort to move the body ; and by 
mental effort the mind's effort as to its own movement 
or action. The characteristics, then, of which we are 
conscious in our own minds, are a capacity for IcnowU 
edge^ a susceptibility to feeling^ and sl faculty of effort 
or will. And such seems to be the constitution of 
every intelligent being of which we are cognizant. 
They all know, feel, and make effort. 

To these attributes there is, as to each in itself, no 
conceivable limit. Having the want, and the knowl- 
edge or idea of a possible mode, the effort — the trying 
to do — is always possible. Nor can we conceive of 
there being in the nature of the phenomena any limit 
to our susceptibility to an additional sensation or emo- 
tion, or that our capacity for knowledge should be so 
filled that there would be no room for more. The in- 
ternal capacity is as unlimited as external sj)ace. 

§ 3. It is conceivable that a being might have knowl- 
edge only ; but it could not have feeling without know- 
ing it. It might with knowledge have feeling, and 
enjoy or suffer without will — without any faculty or 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 267 

power by which it could change, or even try to change, 
its states of enjoyment or suffering, however well it 
might know that such change would be beneficial, or 
however decidedly it might choose or ardently desire 
such change. 

It may seem to be conceivable that a being might 
have will without knowledge or feeling, that it might 
have the faculty and ability to try to do, and even the 
power to do ; but such faculty would be dormant, and 
such power would be merely potential. Without feel- 
ing there would be no occasion, no inducement, no pur- 
pose, or motive for its exercise, and without knowledge 
no means of knowing or of directing its effort to an 
object. 

If it be conceivable that such being could have a 
potential faculty of action, its tendency to act must be 
equal in all directions, and all tendency to action would 
be neutralized. An unintelligent being cannot be self- 
active. 

Our sensations and emotions are not dependent upon 
our will. We can neither hear nor avoid hearing the 
sound of cannon by an act of will. By effort, we may 
bring about the conditions precedent to a particular 
sensation or emotion ; but whether they are brought 
about by our own act or by other cause makes no dif- 
ference to the effect. 

Nor is our knowledge subject to our will. We may, 
by effort, bring about the conditions essential to our 
knowing. We can remove an external obstruction to 
sight, so as to see what was hidden by it. And we 
can also by effort call up and arrange our ideas so that 
some new truth will become apparent ; but in neither 
case can we will lohat we shall perceive. 

But the truth may be, and often is, apparent with- 



268 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

out any prior effort, by merely observing things as they 
happen to be. But whatever preliminary efforts we 
may make to bring about the prerequisite conditions 
to our knowing, the additions to our knowledge are aL 
ways simple immediate mental perceptions^ separable 
from the effort, and in its essence as independent of it 
as the smell of musk or brimstone is of the movement 
of the hand which brings it to the nose. 

Feeling (i. e., sensation and emotion) is an incen- 
tive to action, but is not itself active. 

Knowledge enables us to direct our efforts, but is 
itself passive. 

Through its only active faculty of will — its effort — 
the intelligent being strives to produce change^ of 
which, when effected, it is the cause} 

Our own individual effort is the only cause of which 
we are directly conscious, but we are directly conscious 
of changes in our own sensations, for some of which 
we have and others we have not made effort. From 
some of these sensations we infer objective material 
changes, some of which we have and others we have 
not caused. From some of these we also infer the 
existence of other intelligent beings, like ourselves, to 
whose action we attribute many of these changes in 
our sensational or in objective phenomena, which we 
have not ourselves produced. But as some of these 
changes require a power beyond any indicated in our- 
selves or in our fellow-beings, we infer the existence 
of a superior intelligent power adequate to their pro- 
duction. We thus come to know ourselves, our fellow- 
beings, and God as cause. 

§ 4. Of the existence of matter or of its properties 
we are not directly conscious. We know nothing of 
1 See Note II. p. 337. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 269 

it except by the sensations which we impute to its 
agency, and as these sensations can exist in the mind in 
the absence of the external material forms or forces to 
which we impute them, e. g.^ in dreams, the sensations 
are not conclusive evidence of any such external exist- 
ence. All our sensations which we attribute to matter 
are as fully accounted for by the hypothesis that they 
are the thought, the imagery of the mind of God di- 
rectly imparted or made palpable to our finite minds, 
as by that of a distinct external substance in which He 
has embodied this thought and imagery. 

In either case matter is but the expression of his 
thoughts and conceptions. In either case, too, it is to 
us equally real^ the sensations by which alone we ap- 
prehend these to us external phenomena being the 
same. 

In either case, too, spirit and matter are still anti- 
thetically distinguished, as that which sees and that 
which is seen : the one having the properties of knowl- 
edge, feeling, and volition, while the other is unintelli- 
gent, senseless, and inert. 

The hypothesis that the material phenomena are 
but the thoughts and imagery of the mind of God im- 
mediately impressed upon us is the more simple of the 
two, and makes creative attributes more nearly accord 
with powers which we are ourselves conscious of exer- 
cisino'. 

We can ourselves by effort create such imagery, 
and to some extent make it durable and palpable to 
others. 

We, however, find no rudiment of force or causative 
energy in these creations of our own. We can no 
more attribute inherent power to them than we can to 
an image in a mirror, and there seems no reason to 



270 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

suppose that any increase of power in the creator of 
such imagery could imbue it with causative energy. 

On the other hand, if the existence of matter as a 
distinct, independent, objective entity is conceded, it 
may still be urged that it can, within itself, have no 
causative power. If wholly quiescent, it could exert 
no power to change itself, for all change in matter is 
by its motion in masses or in atoms ; and matter can- 
not move itself. 

But it does not appear to be claimed that matter 
except when in motion can be regarded as a power. 
It is inert and has no self -active power by which it can 
begin motion in itself without being first acted upon, 
nor can it determine the direction of its own motion. 
This beginning and determination must therefore be 
by the only other possible cause — by intelligent being 
— and that which thus begins and directs the motion 
is properly the cause of all the effects which follow, 
and matter is only an inert instrument which intelli- 
gence uses to produce these effects. 

Even if it could be endowed with power to move, 
it could have no inducement, no tendency, or means 
to determine its motion in one direction rather than 
another ; and a tendency or power of self-movement 
which is equal in all directions is a nullity. 

Its quiescent existence might be a fact perceived by 
intelligent beings as among the conditions for them to 
act upon, but any change thus wrought in such being 
is the result of its own perception, or its own action 
on the quiescent matter. Clay may be moulded ; it 
cannot mould. 

It may, however, be urged that both the arguments 
thus drawn from the difficulty of conceiving of the 
creation of matter as a distinct entity, and from the 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 271 

necessity of motion, which it cannot begin, to its 
causal power, may be met by the hypothesis that 
matter never was created, but has always existed, and 
that its condition has ever been that of motion ; and 
that this involves no more difficulty than the hypoth- 
esis that intelligence with its activity has had no be- 
ginning. 

On this we would observe, as germane to the whole 
question of intelligent or material causation, that to 
assume the existence of both when one is sufficient is 
unphilosophical ; and that as we are directly conscious 
of the spiritual phenomena, and only infer the mate- 
rial from our sensations, those who set up the material 
against or to the exclusion of the spiritual are im- 
peaching testimony by testimony less reliable than 
that which they impeach. And further, it seems in- 
conceivable that matter should be the cause of intelli- 
gence and its phenomena — that what does not itself 
know should create a power to know — while, as al- 
ready shown, it is quite conceivable that intelligence 
may create all that we know of matter and its phenom- 
ena. These considerations seem to furnish sufficient 
reason for discarding the hypothesis of causal power 
in matter. 

But whether matter, if it exist, can, even if in mo- 
tion, be a force, powder, or cause, still depends on an- 
other question, namely, Is the tendency of a body in 
motion to continue to move, or to stop when the mov- 
ing power ceases to act upon it ? In other words, is 
the application of extrinsic power required to keep it 
in motion, or is such application required to stop it ? 
The problem may be thus stated. Suppose all exist- 
ence were comprised in one power and one ball, and 
that this power was directly moving that ball. If this 



272 31 AN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

power were instantaneously annihilated, would the ball 
continue to move or would it stop ? 

If in virtue of being in motion it has power, it still 
could not select or vary its action or its consequences, 
and all its effects must be of necessity. For instance, 
in the collision of one body with another, as both can- 
not occupy the same space, some effect must result. 
All the effects of unintelligent cause must be from 
some like necessity. In this respect the material 
hypothesis would have the advantage, there being no 
apparent connection of necessity between intelligent 
effort and its objective sequences. If matter has such 
tendency to continue its motion, then it could be used 
by intelligent power as an instrument to extend the 
effects of its own action in time and space. But if its 
tendency is to stop, then it can have in itself no power 
or force whatever, and could not even be an instru- 
ment for thus extending the effects of the power that 
put it in motion. I confess myself unable to make or 
find any solution to this radical question, but until it 
is settled I do not see how matter, though in motion, 
can properly be regarded as a force, or even as a con- 
server of force imparted to it by other power. 

Nor could intelligent power make matter a self- 
active cause, capable of beginning to move, of direct- 
ing its movements, and so conforming them to vary- 
ing circumstances and conditions as to produce a par- 
ticular effect at a particular time, by impressing upon 
or imbuing it with laws for its own government : for 
to be thus governed by law presupposes intelligence 
on the part of the governed ; such government of that 
which has no intelligence involves a contradiction 
which power cannot reconcile. All that can properly 
be implied when we refer an event to '' the nature of 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 273 

things," or to the " laws of nature," as its cause, is 
that the intelligence which causes these events acts 
uniformly. In investigating the laws of nature we 
but seek to learn the uniform modes of God's action. 

§ 5. A very popular notion of cause, adopted by 
many eininent philosophers, is that all events or suc- 
cessive phenomena are connected in a chain of which 
each successive link is the effect of all that preceded 
it. These also hold, as an essential adjunct to their 
theory, that the same causes necessarily produce the 
same eifect, and hence that each of these successive 
events is necessitated by those which precede it. J. 
Stuart Mill, one of the able advocates of these views, 
says : ^ 

'' The real cause is the whole of these antecedents ; " 
and again, '' The cause ... is the sum total of the 
conditions positive and negative taken together ; the 
whole of the contingencies, which being realized the 
consequent invariably follows." 

On these and other similar positions of Mill, and 
the materialistic school generally, 1 will remark that 
they do not distinguish between those antecedents 
which are merely passive conditions to be acted upon 
and changed and the active agents which act upon 
and change them ; do not distinguish what produces 
from what merely precedes change. Life is a prere- 
quisite to death, but cannot properly be regarded as a 
cause of it. 

Again, any cause always acts upon a wholly void and 
therefore homogeneous future, and if the cause is the 
whole of the antecedents^ then, as at each instant the 
whole of the antecedents is everywhere the same, the 
effect would everywhere be the same ; and throughout 

^ System of Logic ^ Book 3d, Chap. 5, § 3. 



274 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

the universe there could be only one and the same 
effect at the same time.^ 

It is also obvious that on this theory of the " whole 
antecedents " there can be no possible application of 
the law of uniformity, that '' the same causes produce 
the same effects ; " for the moment the cause — the 
whole of the antecedents — has once acted, its action 
and its effect are added to and permanently change 
it, and the same cause can never act a second time. 
The advocates of this theory, that '' the whole antece- 
dents are the cause," and of the asserted law that 
'' the same causes must produce the same effects," 
also very generally hold that we get all our knowl- 
edge from experience. But it is clear that if the 
theory is true there can be no experience as to the 
law, and hence, on their theory, no knowledge to jus- 
tify them in asserting it. 

The foregoing results warrant the assertion that 
in the present condition of our knowledge the only 
causative power which we can be said to know, or 
which we can properly recognize, is that of intelligent 
being in action, and that all the effects, and especially 
all the uniform changes in matter, which begin to be, 
must be attributed to such action, and of course such 
of them as are not caused by the inferior must be re- 
ferred to the action of the Supreme Intelligence ; that, 
however difficult the conception, there seems to be no 
way to avoid the necessity of this constant exercise of 
creative energy to begin change, and produce uniform- 
ity in the results, or to escape the conclusion that 
every particle that floats in the breeze or undulates in 

^ For a fuller statement of this argument see Letters to Mill on 
Causation and Freedom in Willing, p. 43 ; and the first of these letters 
as to cause generally. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 275 

the wave, every atom that changes its position in the 
uniform modes of electrical attraction and repulsion 
or of chemical affinities, is moved, not by the energiz- 
ing, but by the energetic will of an Omnipresent In- 
telligence.^ 

§ 6. The question of our freedom in willing has for 
ages been a prominent subject of philosophical inquiry 
and discussion, in which much of the diversity in 
opinions and results seems to have arisen from erro- 
neous notions and defective definitions of will, and of 
freedom as applicable to willing. 

Effort is wholly unique. Through the whole range 
of our ideas there is nothing resembling it — nothing 
with which there would seem to be any danger of con- 
founding it, or of mistaking for it. And yet, as to 
the noun, will, which I regard as merely a name for 
our faculty to make effort — to try to do — there is 
much confusion, ambiguity, and error. 

In the first place, the will has sometimes been 
treated as a distinct entity. This finds expression in 
the phrase, freedom of the will, and opens the way 
for the argument that if this distinct entity can be 
controlled by some power extraneous to it, even though 
by the being of which it is an attribute, then the will 
is not free. 

Such reasoning is wholly precluded when we regard 
the will as simply the faculty or ability of the mind 
to make effort, and an act of will as simply an effort 
of the mind to do, and in accord with this view, speak 
of the freedom of the miiid in willing, instead of the 
freedom of the will, Edwards, in his celebrated ar- 
gument for necessity, defines will to be " that hy 
which the mind chooses anything^'' and says " an 

1 See Note III. p. 337. 



276 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

act of the loill Is the same as an act of choosing or 
choice,'*^ ^ 

In my view the will is that by which the mind does 
any and every thing that it does at all, or in the ac- 
complishing* of which it has any active agency. Limit- 
ing its fnnction to the plienoniena of choice seems to 
me peculiarly unfortunate. Our choice is merely the 
knowledge that one of two or more things suits us 
best ; and, as we have just shown, knowledge cannot 
be determined by will. We may, as in other cases, by 
effort — by comparing the respective advantages of 
the several objects of choice • — bring about the con- 
ditions essential to our knowing which suits us best. 
The object of the comparative act is to get this knowl- 
edge ; but the knowledge as to what suits us best 

— the choice — is itself a fact found, not made or 
done by us. It is an immediate perception to which 
the previous efforts, comparative or otherwise, may 
have been necessary. 

Edwards also says, '^ The obvious meaning of the 
word FREEDOM, in common speech, is power or op- 
j)ortunity of doing as one wills' But as applied to 
willing — the loilling being then the doing — this is 
merely saying that freedom is the power to do as one 
does, or to will as one wills, or, if the doing (as we 
will) applies to the realization of the object of our ef- 
fort, then it makes our freedom in making the effort 
depend on the subsecpient event, which is absurd. It 
makes our freedom to try to do, dependent on our 
poi.cer to do. But we may freely make effort — try 

— to do, what the event proves we have not power to 
do. 

In this popular use of the word freedom, it applies 

1 See Note IV. p. 340. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 277 

only to the doing^ which comes after the willing^ and 
is but a synonym for power. Freedom in its more 
comprehensive sense, and as applied to intelligent 
being, is simply self-CONTKOL. Freedom in willing 
does not imply that the mind's effort is not controlled 
and directed, but that it is controlled and directed by 
the being that makes the effort, and is not controlled 
or coerced by extraneous power. 

The consequences of these defective definitions of 
will and freedom upon the argument are obvious ; e. 
g.^ Edwards makes choice and preference identical, 
and also says, '' to inill and to choose are the same 
thing." It will be generally admitted that our choice 
as mere preference is not a matter which we can con- 
trol, that we cannot, po7' se^ prefer pain to pleasure, 
and hence are not free in choosing ; and then on Ed- 
wards's assumption that choosing is the same as will- 
ing, he logically infers that we are not free in willing. 

If we may properly define will as but a faculty to 
make effort, and an act of will as simply an effort, and 
discard the assumption that will and choice are the 
same, these arguments for necessity are eliminated. 
Leaving for the present the consideration of other 
arguments for necessity, we will turn to some of the 
sequences of the foregoing premises. 

And first, it is evident that no power can change 
the past, and that the object of every intelligent effort 
must be to make the future different from what but 
for such effort it would be. 

This is the only conceivable motive to effort. Now, 
intelligent being, constituted as before stated, has 
throuf^fh its feelings an inducement to make efforts to 
so mould the future as to obtain an increase of those 
feelings which are pleasurable and avoid or lessen 



278 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

those wliich are painful ; and by means of its knowl- 
edge it can distinguish and judge, more or less wisely, 
between these feelings, and also determine by what 
efforts it will seek to thus mould the future. 

Such a being is in itself self-active, requiring no 
extrinsic agency to put it in action, or to sustain or 
direct its activity. How such a being came to be, 
whether in some inconceivable way it sprang into ex- 
istence from nothing, or in some manner equally mys- 
terious has been evolved from matter or other preex- 
isting substance or essence, the genesis of which is no 
less inscrutable, is not material. A being so consti- 
tuted has all the elements of self-activity. 

Supposing it to have just come into existence, with 
no other coexisting power in action, it could, on feel- 
ing some want and knowing some mode of effort by 
which to gratify its want, immediately make the ef- 
fort ; e, g,^ in the midst of a universal passivity, a 
being thus constituted could relieve its hunger by 
plucking and eating the fruit at hand, and such ef- 
fort, in the absence of all other power, would of ne- 
cessity be self-controlled and directed, and therefore 
the free effort or willing of the being that put it forth. 
In the passive and inert conditions the intelligent 
being perceives a reason for acting, and for acting in 
a particular way ; but such acting suggested by and 
conformed to its oivn perception, which is wholly in 
itself, is very different from an action coerced by or 
directed by an extrinsic power, and this difference 
gives to the former the distinguishing characteristic 
of freedom, i, e., selJ-controL Intelligent effort, then, 
and there is no other, thus springs directly from an 
internal perception of a reason. In this reason it has 
its genesis, and is not dependent on the prior action 
of any extrinsic power or cause. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 279 

But further, if there were other coexisting conative 
beings or powers, we know of no mode in which the 
willing of one being can be directly changed by the 
willing of another or by any other extrinsic power 
whatever. The willing so controlled would be the 
willing of this other being or power, and not that of 
the being in which it is manifested. 

But a constrained or coerced willing, a willing 
w^hich is not free, is not even conceivable. The idea 
is so incongruous, that any attempt to express it results 
in the solecism of our willing when we are not willing. 

In conformity with these views we find the fact to 
be, that whenever we would influence the willing of 
another, we always try to do it by changing his knowl- 
edge. We may seek to do this by simple presentation 
of existing facts, or by argument upon them ; or we 
may exert ourselves to change the facts, — the condi- 
tions upon which he is to act ; e, g,^ we may interpose 
insuperable obstacles to his intended action, or we 
may directly produce or change the feelings which 
prompt his action. But as any such actual change of 
the conditions is wholly ineffective till it makes a part 
of his knowledge, these apparently two modes are 
really only one, and it comes to this, that our only 
mode of influencing the willing of another is to change 
the knowledge by which he controls and directs his 
own willing ; and it is evident that this mode is effec- 
tive only upon the condition that this other does direct 
and control his own willing and conforms it to his own 
knowledge. 

It would be absurd to suppose that the conforming 
of the act of will to the knowledge of the being that 
wills is by an extrinsic power. 

It comes, then, to this, that the only conceivable 



280 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

mode of influencing the will of another is by changing 
his knowledge, and that this mode is wholly unavail- 
ing if this other does not direct his own action by 
means of his own knowledge, i, e., if he does not will 
freely. 

From these premises it follows, that our willing not 
only may be, but must be free. From these, too, it 
follows that every being that wills is a creative first 
cause, an independent power in the universe, freely 
exerting its individual energies to make the future 
different from what it otherwise would be. 

The creation of this future, for each successive mo- 
ment, is the composite result of the efforts of every 
being that wills. Whatever its grade of intelligence, 
if it makes successful effort to produce change, it so 
far acts as an originating creative cause in producing 
the future. 

Again, as every intelligent being will conform its 
action to the existing conditions to be acted upon, the 
change in these conditions which is effected even by 
the lowest order may affect the action of the highest. 
Each individual acts in reference to his prophetic an- 
ticipations of what the future will be without his 
action, and what the effects of his action upon it will 
be, including in these effects the consequent changes 
in the knowledge and action of others. 

This m^erdependence of the action of each upon 
that of others without interference with the freedom 
of any may be illustrated by the game of chess, in 
which each of the players alternately makes new con- 
ditions, new combinations, for the /ree action of the 
other, and this each in turn does with reference to the 
moves which may follow. They could so play if there 
were no other power in existence, and each was wholly 



.MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 281 

passive while the other was determining his move, 
which in such case must be wholly determined and 
controlled by the party moving, and hence would be 
his free act. 

This equal and perfect freedom of all does not 
impair the sovereignty of the Supreme Intelligence. 

Edwards argues that if the Supreme Intelligence 
did not foreknow human volitions he would be con- 
tinually liable to be frustrated in his plans. But Om- 
niscience could at once perceive what action was most 
wise, or, even if prevision was essential, could search 
out and be prepared for every possible contingency. 
It is conceivable that a man could do this in the game 
of chess, and there are games which, though inex- 
plicable to the uninitiated, may practically be so in- 
vestigated that the best move in every possible con- 
tingency will be ascertained, and in which, with the 
advantage as to the first move, success will be certain 
to one having this superior knowledge, though he may 
not foreknow a single move of his opponent. 

§ 7. The phenomena of instinct have been very 
generally deemed exceptional. Our own conscious 
agency in them is so slight that it escapes ordinary 
observation.^ 

The well ascertained fact that animals at their birth 
perform instinctive actions, without previous instruc- 
tion or experience, furnishes a clue to the solution 
which brings these phenomena into harmony with all 
other voluntaTy actions. It indicates, not that the 
will^ the voluntary effort, is absent, but that the 
Icnoioledge by which we direct it is innate. 

In every intelligent conative being the knowledge 
that by effort it can move its muscles must be innate. 

1 See Note V. p. 340. 



282 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

There is no conceivable way in which the being could 
itself acquire this knowledge. No movement of its 
own muscles, without self -effort, could suggest the 
idea, and it would never discover any connection be- 
tween the movement of the muscles of another and 
effort. No such experience or observation of the 
phenomena of muscular movement has any tendency 
to elicit or suggest the idea of effort. 

But, so far as our observation goes, every animal, 
man included, is born with this and some additional 
knowledge which is essential to the preservation of 
its life. The kid the moment it is born can rise upon 
its feet and go directly to the source of food which its 
mother supplies, and it or the human infant would 
die of hunger before it could empirically learn the 
complicated muscular movements and the order of 
their succession which are required to avail itself of 
its food. 

If there is any self -activity prior to birth, it still 
more strongly indicates that the knowledge of some of 
the modes by which we subsequently act is innate. 

In all cases requiring more than one muscular move- 
ment we must will such movements in a certain order. 
It would be in vain to make the muscular movements 
by which we swallow, before the food was in the 
mouth. There must be a plan of action. If no such 
plan is already a part of our knowledge, we must de- 
vise one. Having such plan in our mind, we at once 
proceed to execute it by the appropriate efforts. In 
the rational action we ourselves devise the plan. In 
the instinctive we work by a plan that we found ready 
formed, innate in the mind. 

When we have devised the plan of rational action, 
and can remember the successive steps, and apply it 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 283 

by rote without reference to the rationale, it becomes 
2i plan ready formed in the mind^ and the action be- 
comes habitual , In such action the process is pre- 
cisely the same as in the instinctive. The popular 
consciousness of this similarity finds expression in the 
common adage, '' Habit is second nature." 

In both cases we act from a plan ready formed in 
the mind which we apply without any present labor in 
devising it ; and without the premeditation and delib- 
eration required in this process. 

The rational, the instinctive, and the habitual ac- 
tions, then, all come under one general formula, and 
are all efforts of a conative being ^ incited by its want 
and directed by its knoioledge to the end sought. 

In our rational actions we have obtained the knowl- 
edge of the mode or plan of action by our own efforts. 
In the instinctive, we found it ready made in the mind 
without effort of our own. 

In the habitual, the plan, though we may have orig- 
inally formed it ourselves, has become so fixed in the 
memory that for all subsequent action it becomes a 
plan ready formed in the mind^ requiring no new 
effort to reconstruct it. 

In all this it is the being directing its effort to the 
end desired by means of its knowledge. 

In the execution of this plan^ it is obvious that the 
mode in which we get the knowledge of it can make 
no difference as to the process by which we execute 
it ; and hence the difference between instinctive and 
rational actions has been vainly sought in the actions 
themselves. 

There is no difference in the actions, nor in the 
knowledge itself, nor in the application of the knowl- 
edge to direct our efforts, but the distinction is a step 



284 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

farther back, in the mode in which we become pos- 
sessed of the knowledge we thus apply. 

As, in the rational actions, the main labor and diffi- 
culty, that which tasks our ability, is the forming of 
the plan of action, the fact that in the instinctive ac- 
tion this plan is ready formed in the mind accounts 
for the spontaneity, the absence of deliberation, which 
is one of the most marked features of instinctive ac- 
tions, and the very little which is left for us to do causes 
us to overlook our own agency and to refer such ac- 
tions to an extrinsic power, and hence to regard them 
as not self-controlled and not free. This mistake in 
ignoring our own agency also opens the way for the 
further error that instinctive actions are purely me- 
chanical, which many philosophers of great reputation 
have asserted. But mechanism is not in itself power ; 
it is only a means by which power is applied. 

In regard to those habitual actions which we do by 
memory of plans of rational actions, if we should for- 
get that the plans for them were originally formed by 
our own efforts, we should know no difference between 
them and the instinctive actions. 

These views seem to account for all the peculiarities 
of instinctive actions, and, if they are correct, instinct 
is not a distinct faculty, property, or quality of being 
that may be put in the same category and compared 
with or distinguished from reason, but has relation 
only to the mode in which we became possessed of the 
knowledge by which we determine our actions. In 
regard to the instinctive, this knowledge being innate, 
we have no occasion to use our reason to obtain it. 
Hence instinct is often regarded as fulfilling the func- 
tion of reason. 

Whether the innate knowledge of modes and plans 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 285 

is by transmission or otherwise does not affect our 
theory. The fact that they are thus ready formed in 
the being without effort of its own seems to be assured 
by actual observation, and to be sufficient to explain 
all the peculiar phenomena of instinctive action. 

The genesis of our action must be instinctive, 
founded on innate knowledge, there being no possible 
way in which, through experience or reflection, we 
could ever learn by effort to put either our muscular 
or mental powers in action. 

Tiie instinctive actions are of the same character in 
all grades of being ; and in regard to rational actions 
I see no distinction in kind, but only in degree, be- 
tween those of man and the lower animals. Descend- 
ing in the scale of intelligence we will probably reach 
a grade of beings which do not seek to add to their 
innate knowledge, nor invent or form new plans to 
meet new occasions for effort. 

The actions of such must be wholly instinctive ; but 
I have seen dogs and horses draw inferences and work 
out ingenious plans of action adapted to conditions so 
unnatural and improbable to them as to preclude the 
assumption that they had been specially provided by 
nature, through hereditary transmission or otherwise, 
with the knowledge of the plan they adoj)ted for such 
exigency.^ 

In regard to habit I would further state that it is 
but a substitution of former results of investigation 
and experience for present examination and trial. 
Through it memory performs the same office for action 
that it does for knowledge, retaining the acquisitions 
of the past for permanent use. 

If on every occasion for their application we had to 
1 See Note VI. p. 341. 



286 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

re-learn the letters of the alphabet, there could be 
very little progress in general knowledge, and so if on 
every occasion for action we had to devise or examine 
and decide as to the best plan, we should make very 
little progress in acquiring modes of action or facility 
in their application. By these conserving agencies 
the mind garners what is matured, and is ready for 
new acquisitions. 

The agency of habit in retaining previously consid- 
ered modes of action, right or wrong, and making 
them permanent accretions to the moral character, is 
its most important function. 

Having now shown that these apparently exceptional 
cases of instinctive and habitual actions are really 
embraced in one general formula, that all our actions 
are efforts, self-directed by means of our knowledge 
to the gratification of a want, and consequently are 
free, I will note some of the conflicting views of the 
advocates of necessity. 

I have already alluded to the fallacies which grow 
out of regarding the will as a distinct entity, and from 
the erroneous definitions of it, and of freedom, and 
also from identifying the latter with choice. 

§ 8. But the argument from cause and effect seems 
to be most relied upon by necessitarians. 

I adopt a statement of this argument which has the 
assent of one of its most distinguished advocates, viz. : 
If all the circumstances in a thousand cases are alike, 
and the conditions of the mind also the same, then the 
willing will be the same, and this uniformity indicates 
necessity. 

This assumes as the basis of the argument that the 
same causes must produce the same effects. 

In the first place I would remark that an intelligent 



MAN A CREATIVE E'IRST CAUSE. 287 

self-active cause is under no necessity upon a recur- 
rence of the same circumstances to repeat its action, 
but having in the first case increased its knowledge, it 
may act differently in the second. 

It may with reason be said that with this increase 
of knowledge the conditions of the mind are different, 
but if this difference is not tacitly accepted, the hypo- 
thesis of a thousand like cases is inconceivable, inas- 
much as there could not even be two such. 

But giving the argument all that is intended by 
those who urge it, and granting their assumption that 
the same causes do of necessity produce the same 
effects, let us suppose the circumstances in one thou- 
sand cases to be alike, and the conditions of the mind 
at each recurrence of them to be the same, and that 
one of these conditions of the mind is that of neces- 
sity^ then the same causes of necessity producing the 
same effects, the same action follows. 

Again, suppose the circumstances in another thou- 
sand cases to be alike, and the conditions of the mind 
again the same in each case, but that in these, one of 
the conditions of the mind, instead of being necessity^ 
is freedoTR^ then the same causes of necessity produc- 
ing the same effects, the same action follows. 

Now, as the result is in both cases the same, it can- 
not possibly indicate whether it is necessity or freedom 
that is among the conditions, and it proves nothing. 

One phase of this argument from cause and effect 
is that all the present events, including volitions, are 
necessary consequences of their antecedents. I have 
already treated of this asserted dependence of the 
present on the past, and will now only add that intel- 
ligent action is always wholly upon the present con- 
ditions, and has reference solely to an effect in the 



288 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

future, and it is not material to such action how or 
when either the active being, as he is, or the condi- 
tions for him to act upon, came to be, or how con- 
nected with the past, nor whether they had any past. 
If, however, by the force of past events themselves, 
or by any causes whatever, there is established a cer- 
tain flow of events having a tendency to extend into 
the future, such flow in its effect upon our freedom in 
willing does not differ from that flow which is the 
composite result of conative efforts, which I have 
already considered. Our individual action is always 
to interrupt or modify such flow. We decide as to 
our own actions by our preconceptions, our prescience 
— more or less reliable — of what the future will be 
with, and w^hat without, our own efforts. 

§ 9. The influence of present external conditions 
is also much relied upon by the advocates of necessity, 
but I trust it is already obvious that we may vary our 
free action with the circumstances, that we act as 
freely upon one set of them as upon any other, and 
that such action being self -conf ormed is perfectly free. 

The influence of internal phenomena, as the moral 
character, knowledge, disposition, inclination, desires, 
wants, habits, etc., which make up the attributes and 
conditions of the mind that wills, is also much relied 
upon, and necessarians have been at much pains to 
show that the willing is always in conformity to these. 
But in view of the fact that freedom, in the act of 
willing, consists in the action being self -controlled and 
directed, it would have served the purposes of their 
argument much better to have proved that the action 
was counter to or diverse from the character. They 
seem to have been especially unfortunate in making 
successful efforts to prove that our actions are always 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 289 

in agreement with our prevailing choice, or, which 
with them is very nearly the same thing, with our 
strongest motive. The moral character of the being- 
is indicated and represented by its efforts, but this 
manifestation through the efforts does not affect its 
freedom in making them. A demon is as free as an 
angel. 

Nor is it material to the question of freedom how 
the being came to be as he is ; whether his own char- 
acter has been the result of his own efforts or of other 
power or circumstances ; or whether bis own knowl- 
edge, by which he directs his actions, has been ac- 
quired with or without extrinsic aid. The fact that 
his willing will vary with and conform to his char- 
acter — his disposition and his knowledge — indicates 
that he controls his action. If he does not, then there 
is no reason to expect that his action will so conform. 

§ 10. The advocates of necessity often ask if a man 
could will the contrary of what he does will. I would 
say that he could if he so decided ; but it would be a 
contradictory and absurd idea of freedom, which for 
its realization would require that one might try to do 
what he had determined not to try to do. In short, all 
these arguments of the necessarians, that our acts of 
will are not free because they must conform to our 
own character, our own views and decisions, virtually 
assert that one is not free because he must be free; 
or, in other words, being of necessity free, he is con- 
strained to be free, and hence is not free. 

§ 11. Edwards and other theolorians a.oreeino^ with 
him have regarded the argument from prescience of 
volitions, which they hold to be perfect in deity, as 
very conclusive. They assume not only that a volition 
which is infallibly foreknown must of necessity hap- 



290 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

pen, but that it must happen by restraint or coercion 
of the willing agent. This is not a logical inference. 
Whether a free volition ever can be infallibly fore- 
known may be doubted. I think I have already 
shown that such foreknowledge is not requisite to the 
supreme sovereignty of the universe. But some phi- 
losophers, who in their inquiries exclude theology and 
revelation, also argue that the imperfect prescience, 
which must be an element in the decision of all our 
efforts to influence the future, also indicates necessity. 
Both hold that the possibility of prediction involves 
necessity as to the volition. But if, as I hope to de- 
monstrate, a free act is as easily foreknown and pre- 
dicted as one that is not free, this argument is wholly 
unavailing.- If some being by its power controls a 
future event, it of course can foreknow and predict it ; 
but such control of the volition of another, for reasons 
already stated, I hold to be impossible, involving a 
contradiction which power cannot reconcile. Aside 
from this conclusion, the difference between a volition 
which is free and one which is not free is, that the 
former is controlled and directed by the being in which 
it is manifested, and the latter by some extrinsic 
power. Our principal means of foreknowing what the 
self -directed, the free, act of an intelligent being will 
be is its conformity to the known character, habits, 
etc., of the actor ; and if it is admitted that the ex- 
ternal power which controls and directs the action 
which is not self-directed always conforms the act to 
the character of the being in which the action is mani- 
fested, then the probabilities of forming a correct 
judgment of what the action or effort will be are in 
this respect exactly equal. But the admission that 
this conforming of the action to the character of the 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 291 

actor is by an extrinsic power, and not by the actor 
himself, is an unwarrantable, I might perhaps say an 
absurd, assumption. In stating it one can hardly 
avoid a solecism, for the character which is thus pre- 
sented to us by the actions is not that of the being ap- 
parently acting, but of the power or powers which de- 
termine the actions. The actions in such case might 
represent a consistent character, for to the outside 
observer the actions make the character ; but it would 
be the character, not of the being apparently acting, 
which we perceive or know, but of the being or power 
extrinsic to it which we may not know. All our 
knowledge of beings as individuals, and even of spe- 
cies, would thus be annihilated. The hypothesis of 
such extrinsic agency in conforming the action to the 
character of the actor is in various aspects of it a gra- 
tuitous and inadmissible assumption. 

If it still be urged that the act may be controlled 
by an extrinsic power that does not conform the action 
to the character of the apparent actor, then if we do 
not know this extrinsic power we wholly lose our prin- 
cipal means of predicting what the action will be ; 
and if we do know it, and know it without any effort, 
we still have to meet the same difficulties, somewhat 
more complicated by this extrinsic agency, to ascertain 
what this extrinsic power would determine this unfree 
act of another to be, as we would to solve the question 
as to what the more direct and simple, self-determined 
free act of this other would be ; so that on any admis- 
sible hypothesis the free act of will is (to all except 
an intelligent controlling power) more easily fore- 
known and predicted than one that is not free ; and if 
this argument from the susceptibility to prediction 



292 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

has any weight, it is in favor of freedom and not of 
necessity.^ 

§ 12. I will now recur to the position before 
reached, that every being endowed with the faculty of 
will, a capacity for knowledge and a susceptibility to 
feeling, has within itself all the essentials of a self- 
active being, and can begin action, and, so far as it 
has laioicledge of a mode, can make effort to produce 
any effects, and so far as it has power can actually 
produce them, without any extrinsic aid. Every such 
being is thus a creative first cause, an independent 
power in the universe, in a sphere commensurate with 
its knowledge, freely putting forth its efforts to change 
existing conditions 

The power and knowledge of such a being may be 
very limited ; but within the limits of these attributes 
its action is as /y^ee as if it were omniscient and omni- 
potent. Its effort must always be to make the future 
different from what but for such effort it would be. 
Such being is thus a co-worker with God, and vdth all 
other conative beings, in creating the future, which is 
always the composite result of the action of all such 
beings. 

If we suppose an oyster with no other efficient 
power than that of moving its shell, and with knowl- 
edge of only one mode of doing this, and this instinc- 
tive, still, when by its own effort, directed by its own 
knowledge, it effects this moving, it so far makes the 
future different from what it would have been, and so 
far performs a part in the creation of that future. 

But I shall deal mainly with our own more intel- 
ligent order of beings, which not only know^s, but 
devises modes of actions suited to the varying oc- 

1 See Note VII. p. 344. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 293 

casions of life, and in which the creative powers of 
effort, incited by feeling and directed by knowledge, 
are more abundantly manifested. 

For the exercise of these creative powers we have 
two distinct spheres of effort, the one without and the 
other within us ; that without us embracing all ma- 
terial phenomena, and so much of the spiritual as we 
attribute to other intelligent beings. All this sphere 
is known to us through our sensations and as an in- 
ference from them. Of the phenomena of our own 
spiritual nature we are directly conscious. The phe- 
nomena without us are conveniently called objective, 
and those within us subjective. Our efforts to effect 
change in either sphere are always subjective. In 
efforts for objective change we always begin by a 
movement of our own muscles. We thus directly 
change the material status without us, and, as already 
shown, we may by such change in the external ma- 
terial conditions to be acted upon indirectly influence 
the free action of others. We can thus by our own 
efforts make objective phenomena, including the men- 
tal action and volitions of others, different from what 
they otherwise would be. 

§ 13. I have already alluded to the two different 
hypotheses, the one regarding material phenomena as 
forms of a distinct entity, called matter ; the other 
regarding it as but the thought and imagery of the 
mind of God immediately impressed upon and made 
palpable to our finite minds, without any intermediate 
vehicle in the process. 

In neither case the sensations, by which alone we 
know, or which perhaps are all there is, of the phe- 
nomena, are equally real, and are in fact identically 
the same on the one hypothesis as upon the other. If 



294 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

as a result or corollary of our arguments in regard to 
cause, or otherwise, the material universe is regarded 
as the work of an intelligent Creator, working with 
design to produce a certain effect, then, upon either 
of these hypotheses, it is the presentation and expres- 
sion of a conception existing as thought and imagery 
in his mind before he gave it palpable tangible ex- 
istence in ours, and the only question as between the 
two hypotheses is, whether, in making it palpable to 
us, he transfers this thought and imagery directly to 
our minds, or does this by painting, carving, or mould- 
ing, in a distinct material substance. 

I have already intimated my leaning to the ideal 
hypothesis as being more simple and equally compe- 
tent to embrace and explain all material phenomena. 

I will here remark that the adopting of one or the 
other of these two hypotheses has very little, if any, 
bearing upon the views which I am presenting : 
whether the Supreme Intelligence found the matter, 
in which he expresses and makes his thoughts perma- 
nent and tangible, ready made, or made it himself, 
either as a distinct entity, or as mere imagery of his 
mind, has in most respects no more significance than 
the question whether Milton and Shakespeare and 
Bacon found existing materials for expressing and 
making their thoughts palpable and permanent, or 
contrived and made the pen, ink, and paper, which 
they used for this purpose. In either case we get the 
thoughts of the author, and can use the same means to 
express our own, including even in some measure the 
visible creations in which the Author of all has com- 
municated his thoughts. 

Another consideration in favor of the ideal hypo- 
thesis is, that by means of it, creating becomes more 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 295 

conceivable to us : we can any of us conceive or imag- 
ine a landscape and vary its features at will ; this is an 
incipient creation, which by effort we may make more 
or less perfect. 

Such creations of our own we for the time being 
locate outside of ourselves, and while we are wholly 
absorbed in contemplating them, they are to us perfect 
external material creations. 

To make them such to others requires that we 
should in some way impress oar conceptions upon their 
minds, and make the imagery of our own palpable to 
theirs. Though our faculty of doing this, as com- 
pared with that of creating the imagery, seems to be 
very limited, we are none of us wholly devoid of it. 
Landscape gardeners, architects, sculptors, painters, 
and more especially poets, have it in marked degree. 
In all these it is effected by slow, tentative processes, 
though in the latter it often appears as a genuine 
spontaneity, a fiat of creative genius. 

We then already have and habitually exercise all 
the faculties essential to material creation, and with 
the requisite increase in that of impressing others we 
could design and give palpable persistent existence to 
a universe varying to any extent from that which now 
environs us, which would be objectively as real and 
material to the vision, even, of others, as the heavens 
and the earth they now look out upon. 

Though these creations of our own are mostly eva- 
nescent, and the persistent reality which with great la- 
bor and pains we give to some of them is very limited, 
and the presentation even of these very imperfect, 
still they show that we have within us the rudiments 
of all the faculties which on the ideal hypothesis are 
essential to creating. This hypothesis is further com- 



2Q6 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

mended to us by the consideration that man having in 
a finite degree all the other powers usually attributed 
to the Supreme Intelligence, lacks under the material 
theory that of creating matter. Corresponding to the 
Divine omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence, 
man has finite power and finite knowledge, and can 
make all the ideas and objects of his knowledge palpa- 
bly present, which is equivalent to, and under the ideal 
hypothesis is identical with, a finite presence, limited 
like our other attributes to the sphere of our knowl- 
edge. The ideal hypothesis then rounds out our ideas 
of creative intelligence, relieving us of the anomaly of 
the creation of matter as a distinct entity, for which 
we have in ourselves no conscious rudiment of power, 
and of which we cannot conceive, and we find little if 
any relief in the alternative that matter has always 
existed without having been created. 

A legitimate inference from the foregoing premises 
seems to be, that if from any cause one's own incipient 
creation of objective phenomena should become so 
fixed in his mind that he could not change it at will,, 
it would become to him a permanent external reality. 
This inference is empirically confirmed by the fact 
that this sometimes happens in abnormal conditions of 
the mind. 

However conscious we may be of our own agency in 
the formative process, as to the formations themselves, 
their subjection to our own will seems to be the only 
element by which we distinguish our own ideal crea- 
tions from objective phenomena. 

This strongly suggests that the difference between 
the creative powers of man and those of the Supreme 
Intelligence is mainly if not wholly in degree and not 
in kind, and that even in this the disparity, vast as it 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 297 

is, is still not incomprehensible as lias been generally 
supposed. This gives warrant to the logic in which 
by short steps we attribute all creations and all 
changes, which we regard as beyond our own power 
and beyond that of other embodied intelligences 
known to us, to a superior intelligence with the same 
powers which we possess and use to create and change, 
increased, we need not say infinitely, but to a degree 
corresponding to the effects which we cognize and as- 
cribe to them. 

1 will further remark that so long as these creations 
even of the objective are purely subjective, there is no 
limit to the extent or the variety of our combinations. 
We are not confined to any experience of the actual 
nor constrained by any notion of propriety or har- 
mony, but can make roses bloom in regions of perpet- 
ual snow, or locate a sun in the zenith of a nocturnal 
sky. Nor can we any more conceive of a limit to the 
extension of these incipient creations than w^e can of 
a limit to space. In such formations, and even as to 
those which we locate in the external, our creative fiat 
is absolute as to their accomplishment and unlimited 
as to their extension. But when we seek to make 
these creations permanent to ourselves and palpable 
to others, we find our ability to do this is in striking 
contrast with the power by which we produce them. 
The paltry changes on a few feet of canvas, or a few 
roods of earth, or a few descriptive pages, is all that 
remains of the most magnificent ideal constructions of 
the most gifted. In this e:r:ternal sphere, the common 
domain of all, there can be no appreciable monopoly 
by any. 



298 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 



DISCOURSE II. 

MAN IN THE SPHERE OF HIS OWN MORAL NATURE 
A SUPREME CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

In my former discourse I argued that man is a self- 
active and self-directed agent, with creative powers 
which he freely and successfully exerts to change the 
existing conditions and mould the future. Having, 
then, treated of the exercise of this creative power in 
the external, which is the common arena of all intelli- 
gent activity, I propose now to speak more especially 
of its manifestations in the internal, in which each in- 
dividual has his own special sphere of creative effort, 
bounded only by his knowledge. 

§ 14. I have already argued that some of our 
knowledge must be innate, and that some of what we 
acquire is obtained without our seeking, — without 
our effort.^ External phenomena come into the mind 
unbidden, and cannot always be excluded. So, too, 
the facts and ideas which are already stored in the 
memory often come into view, and with them the per- 
ception of new relations, wdthout any preliminary ef- 
fort, and these cannot be discarded by any direct ef- 
fort. This independence of the will gives to these 
intuitions the distinguishing characteristic of the phe- 
nomena of a sense^ and, with the observed facts, indi- 
cates the existence of a cognitive sense. 

As before stated, our acquisitions of knowledge are 
always by simple immediate perception^ and hence in 
the final assimilation these are all the subjects of the 
cognitive sense ; but some of our cognitions do, and 

^ See page 267. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 299 

others do not, require preliminary effort to bring them 
within the range of this immediate mental vision. 

In this there is no difference, /)er se, as to our per- 
ceptions of external and internal objects. In the ex- 
ternal we may have to remove obstacles to our seeing 
or hearing, and though our internal cognitions are tlie 
mind's more direct perception of what is already within 
itself, we still often need, by effort, to change the com- 
bination or arrangement of the ideas before the result- 
ing relation or truth becomes manifest. In both cases 
the intuitive perceptions of the sense are distinguished 
from the results of the rational faculty by the effort 
required for the latter. 

The phenomena of the external are brought within 
range of our immediate mental perceptions by means 
of the external organs of sense. For the internal cog- 
nitive spontaneity, the main, if not the only, immedi- 
ate instrumentalities seem to be the oj3erations of mem- 
ory and association, singly and in combination ; but 
its genesis is often, perhaps alwa3'S, by suggestion 
from the bodily organs, through the senses, or the ap- 
petites, which much resemble and are closely allied to 
the senses. The sound of a cannon may call up our 
knowledge of the battle of Waterloo. The continual 
flow of ideas through the mind, singly or in trains or 
groups, is to it an exhaustless source of knowledge. 
If the mind ever became wholly inactive and oblivious, 
it could only be aroused and rescued from annihilation 
by some extrinsic agency. Our spontaneous cogni- 
tions of external objects and contemporaneous changes 
may be presented by the bodily organs of sense in any 
possible order or combination, and the internal phe- 
nomena may come into notice in a like manner, 
though in the latter the combinations and the order of 



300 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

succession seem to be more subordinated to the asso- 
ciations of experience. 

The cognitive sense seems then to be, as it were, the 
common terminus of the arrangement, organism, or 
means by which both objective and subjective phenom- 
•'. ena are immediately presented to the mind. These pres- 
entations become the subjects of our judgments, which 
may also be with or without preliminary effort : e, g,^ 
we perceive at once the difference in the size of a pea 
and an orange, but do not thus perceive the equality of 
the sum of the angles of a triangle to two right angles. 

To illustrate these processes, suppose the four letters 
y, t^ i, a, are put to me to form into a word. It may 
so happen that I shall see them at first glance in the 
order jiat^ and the thing is done, or I may have to 
proceed tentatively through few or many of the combi- 
nations which the letters admit of. So, too, the inter- 
nal may accidentally come into view in such order 
that some new relation is immediately apparent, and 
seems like a sudden flash illuminating the mind from 
without, without any agency of its own. The circum- 
stances and the perception may thus come under our 
observation without even an effort to direct attention 
to them. 

We distinguish the various perceptions of the one 
cognitive sense, first as objective and subjective, and 
then classify the former as sensations of seeing, hearing, 
etc. ; and, in regard to the latter, we speak of the sense 
of beauty, of order, of justice, honor, shame, etc. When 
the subject of these cognitions, and of the judgments 
upon them, spontaneous or otherwise, is that of moral 
right and wrong, they constitute the genetic elements 
of the moral sense. But the mere perception or judg- 
ment as to right and wrong has of itself no more effect 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 301 

upon the sensibilities than has the cognition that twice 
five are ten. It is not till we regard it as practically 
applied in action that it produces any emotion. Such 
action in others, when it is right, elicits our approval 
or admiration, and when wrong, our censure or indig- 
nation ; and in ourselves the triumph of the right in- 
spires us with the pleasurable and elevating emotion 
of victory, while the yielding to the temptation to 
wrong brings with it the painful feelings of debility? 
self-debasement, and dishonor. It is in these emo- 
tions of glory and of shame thus excited that we 
find the manifestation or development of conscience, 
which is properly the moral sense^ to the sensations of 
which the cognition of right and wrong is only a pre- 
requisite. Nor is it material to the quality of our ac- 
tion whether these cognitions are true or false, for the 
moral virtue of our actions all lies in our conforming 
them to our conmctions of duty ; and hence, though 
false convictions may cause our actions to be unwise, 
they do not affect their morality. 

In regard to our action in the objective, I have ar- 
gued that an innate knowledge that the movement of 
the muscles is effected by effort is a necessity, but, in 
view of the foregoing premises, there seems to be no 
analogous necessity that we should have any such 
knowledge of absolute right and wrong, or even any 
faculty or sense by which we can, intuitively or other- 
wise, acquire such knowledge. 

The design of conscience seems primarily not to 
punish transgression, but to warn us against doing 
what is injurious to our moral nature. The monition 
comes in the contemplation of the act, and prior to its 
consummation, as in case one thrusts his hand into the 
fire, he feels the pain before he is seriously injured ; 



302 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

and as by frequent repetition the tissues become cal- 
lous, and less sensitive to the pain, so, too, the more 
frequent a.nd the more flagrant a man's iniquities, the 
less the pain which conscience inflicts upon him. This 
is the reverse of what it should be if punishment were 
the object. With this warning knowledge of the effect, 
we are left to our own self-control, our own freedom 
in action. 

§ 15. Our efforts for change in the sphere within 
us, excepting, perhaps, those for moral construction, 
are always to increase our knowledge. 

The knowledge sought may be of either sphere. Its 
immediate object often, perhaps oftenest, is to enable 
us to decide more wisely as to our action in reference 
to the actual current events of life ; or it may be for 
the pleasure we derive from the mental activity in the 
process, and the success which is almost certain to 
reward our search for truth. We can hardly fail to 
learn something, if not what we sought. A higher 
object may be to permanently increase the intellectual 
power, or, yet higher, to improve our moral nature. 

§ 16. For the acquisition of knowledge by effort, 
mind has two distinct modes, — observation and reflec- 
tion. By the former, we note the phenomena which are 
cognized by the senses, and by the latter we trace out 
the relations among the ideas — the knowledge — we 
already have in store, and thus obtain new perceptions, 
new ideas. A large portion of our perceptions, how- 
ever acquired, are primarily but imagery of the mind, 
— pictures, as it were, of what we have perceived or 
imagined. In this form we will, for convenience, 
designate them di^ primitive perceptions or ideals. By 
these terms I especially seek to distinguish these per- 
ceptions from those which we have associated with 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 303 

words or other signs or representatives of things and 
ideas. 

There is a somewhat prevalent notion that we can 
think only in words; but it is obvious that we can 
cognize things for which we have no name, and can 
also perceive their relations before we have found any 
words to describe them ; and in fact such knowledge 
or perception generally precedes our attempts to de- 
scribe them.^ 

These primitive perceptions, or ideals^ are thus in- 
dependent of the words which we use to represent 
them, and to which they may have a separate and 
prior existence. Even when in a strictly logical 
verbal process w^e reach a result in words, it is not 
fully available till, by a reflex action, we get a mental 
perception of that which those words signify or stand 
in place of. 

Much of our acquired knowledge is of the relations 
in and between our primitive perceptions. 

In the pursuit of truth by reflective effort we also 
have two modes. In the first place, we may through 
our immediate primitive perceptions of things which 
are present, or the mental imagery of things remem- 
bered, directly note the existing' relations among them 
or their parts without the use of words in the process ; 
or, we may substitute words as signs or definitions of 
these primitive perceptions, and then investigate the 
relations among the words so substituted. 

In the dift'erence of these two modes we find the 
fundamental distinction betw^een poetry and prose, the 
former being the ideal or poetic, and the latter the 
logical or prosaic, method. The poet uses words to 
present his thoughts, but his charm lies in so using 
1 See Note VIII. p. 344. 



304 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

them that the primitive perceptions — the imagery of 
his mind — shall be so transferred and pictured in 
that of the recipient as to absorb his attention to the 
exclusion of the verbal medium. We see the painting 
without thinking of the pigments and the shading by 
which it is impressed upon us. Every reader may 
experimentally test this distinction. If it is well 
founded, he will find that when any portion of a poem, 
instead of thus picturing the thought on his mind, 
requires him to get at it by means of the relations of 
the terms in which it is presented, there is a cessation 
or revulsion of all poetic emotion. 

The material universe, which, upon either the ideal 
or materialistic hypothesis, is the thought and imagery 
of the mind of God directly impressed on our minds, 
is the perfect, and perhaps the only perfect type of 
the poetic mode. 

Poetry, thus depending on this prominence of the 
primitive perceptions, is the nearest possible approach 
which language can make to the reality which it repre- 
sents. Assuming that simple observation is common 
to both, these two modes of investigation — the one 
carried on by means of a direct examination of the 
realities themselves, or mental images of them, the 
other by means of words or other signs substituted 
for them — also present the fundamental and most 
important, if not the only, distinction in our methods 
of philosophic research and discovery. 

Each has its peculiar advantages, and both are es- 
sential to our progress in knowledge. Like the ex- 
ternal senses of sight and feeling, they mutually con- 
firm or correct each other. 

The prosaic has the advantage of condensing and 
generalizing, but is applicable only in a very con- 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 305 

tracted sphere, extending little, if any, beyond that in 
which a scientific language has been constructed ; 
while the poetic, dealing directly with the things or 
their images, is coextensive with thought, perception, 
and imagination. 

The prosaic can do little more than aid us to find 
and condense what is, and this only in the limited 
domain in which a language has already been con- 
structed ; while the poetic is prophetic and creative in 
a sphere as boundless as its fancy. 

Syllogistic reasoning furnishes good examples of 
the prosaic mode, but the purest form of it is man- 
ifested in our dealings with algebraic equations. In 
these we use letters, as signs of quantities (^known 
and unknown), and other signs to express their rela- 
tions to each other, and then by an examination of 
these signs and their defined relations, without any 
reference to any actual quantities, we logically deduce 
general formulas applicable to all quantities.^ 

All general propositions must be expressed in the 
prosaic mode, and the progress of knowledge usually 
beinor from particulars to generals, little advancement 
can be made without it. The particulars become too 
numerous and cumbersome for the mind to deal with 
separately. 

But the poetic mode dealing directly with the things 
as observed, recollected, or imagined, we are by it en- 
abled to advance beyond the limits of language and of 
the senses. It has a telescopic reach by which it pene- 
trates the future and perceives the earliest dawn of 
truth. 

It is thus the most efficient truth-discovering power, 
and at the same time furnishes the means of communi- 
1 See Note IX. p. 346. 



306 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

eating the discoveries it makes in advance of the logi- 
cal processes. 

The greater facility and rapidity of the poetic over 
the logical process is ilhistrated by the ease and quick- 
ness with which we perceive the equality of two figures 
when one is applied directly to the other, as compared 
with our ascertaining this equality by means of a 
geometrical demonstration. 

This greater reach and quickness makes the poetic 
power the essential attribute of genius in all its vari- 
eties. But this poetic power, this power of dealing 
directly with things, or our immediate perceptions of 
them, though prominent in the more gifted, is not re- 
stricted to them, but pervades the whole domain of 
our intellectual activity. 

In its least ethereal and most common form, it is 
the basis of that common sense which, looking directly 
at things, events, and their relations, enables us spon- 
taneously to form just opinions, or probable conjec- 
tures, of immediate consequences, and to determine as 
to the appropriate action. From this lov/ estate, when 
aided by elevated moral sentiments, combined with in- 
tellectual power, and invigorated with warm feelings, 
pure passion, and fervid enthusiasm, it rises to the 
dignity of inspiration and the sublimity of prophecy. 

The facility of application to the current affairs of 
life which pertains to the ideal processes makes the 
poetic attribute the main element of practical business 
ability. The current events of life are too compli- 
cated, variable, and heterogeneous for the application 
of verbal logic. In the mistakes to which even care- 
ful and skilful logicians are liable from too hasty gen- 
eralizations, faulty definitions, and fallacious infer- 
ences, we see the danger which would arise if the un- 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, ;S^07 

initiated, who are immersed in business, and whose de- 
cisions must often be hasty, should rely upon processes 
of reasoning in which an error in the signification, or 
in the application, of a term might vitiate their con- 
clusions and lead to disastrous action. 

To such the processes of ideality are much safer. 
In these, without the intervention of words, the mind, 
at a glance, takes in the actual conditions, and reaches 
its conclusions in incomparably less time than would 
be required to substitute the terms, test their preci- 
sion, examine their relations, and arrange them in the 
requisite logical order. 

The greater quickness with which we examine par- 
ticular cases by the poetic process to some extent com- 
pensates for the greater number of instances, which 
may be embraced in one generalization of the prosaic. 

Persons who adopt the quicker mode are often no- 
tably discreet, wise, and able in the actual conduct of 
affairs, but from the exclusion of words in the process, 
and its flash-like quickness, they cannot state the 
grounds of their conclusions, nor assign a reason for 
their consequent action. 

The poetic processes are also the characteristic fea- 
ture of what has been termed a woman's reason, which 
is thus contradistino'uished from verbal loo^ic. And 
the practical application of these processes is illus- 
trated in the quick and clear perception of the circum- 
stances, and sound judgment upon them, with which 
woman is properly accredited. This feature also leads 
us intuitively to regard woman as of finer mould, and 
to expect from her aesthetically and morally more than 
from the sterner sex. And it is to her command of 
these more direct and more ethereal modes of thought 
and expression that we must attribute her superior in- 



'^j8 man a creative first cause. 

fluence in softening the asperities of our nature, and 
refining and elevating the sentiments of our race. 
Hence, too, it is that while the finest and strongest 
reasoning of philosophy has in this respect accom- 
plished so little, woman has accomplished so much. 
The refined subtleties of an Aristotle, or the glowing 
sublimities of a Plato, though presented to us with all 
the fascinations of a high-toned morality, with all the 
accessories of graceful diction and persuasive elo- 
quence, are dim and powerless to that effluence of soul 
which with a glance unlocks the portals to our tender- 
ness, which chides our error with a tear, or winning us 
to virtue with the omnipotence of a charm, irradiates 
the path of duty with the beaming eye, and cheers it 
with the approving smile of loveliness. As compared 
with such influences, the results of logic or any prosaic 
form of words are weak. 

It is, then, through the poetic processes that we 
mainly get the perceptions, the knowledge, by which 
we direct our actions in the varying events and multi- 
farious combinations of e very-day life. 

Though it is in a subdued form that the poetic 
power is thus practically available, it still seems a 
desecration to put such high endowments to such com- 
mon uses ; but we have tamed the lightning and made 
it run on our errands and drudge in our workshops. 

§ 17. I have already touched upon the exercise of 
our creative power in the sphere without us, in which 
we act with all other conative beings. But it is in the 
isolated sphere within us, in the seclusion of our own 
spiritual nature, that we should expect to find this 
power most potent, and our efforts, always mental, 
most successful. And it is in a better knowledge of 
the character, the relations, and the modes of the po- 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. S09 

etic and the logical processes with a more general cul- 
tivation of tlie former, and by a more systematic and 
intelligent selection from these two cardinal modes of 
investigation of that which is best suited to the subject 
in hand, or oftener by a judicious application of both 
to the same subject, so that each may supplement and 
supply the deficiencies, or correct the errors, of the 
other, that I look for hicreased efficiency, reach, and 
accuracy in the mind's intellectual ability. 

The discovery of improved modes for such cultiva- 
tion, selection, and single or combined application of 
these two cardinal methods of seeking truth, and the 
means of making these discoveries accessible and 
available to the popular mind, are both within the 
province of the metaphysician, and they open to him 
an elevated sphere of utility. 

The benefits which may be anticipated from explor- 
ing this field are not merely those which metaphysical 
studies confer as a strengthening exercise to the men- 
tal powers. They also include the making of the same 
strength more effective by the invention or discovery 
of improved modes in their application. 

It is true that both these modes of thought must al- 
ways have been in practical use, but with little or no 
conscious attention as to the selection or application of 
them, singly or combined. The neglect or unconscious- 
ness of any such aids is manifested in the not uncom- 
mon belief that we always think in words — a belief 
which is shared even by men of deep philosophic 
thought. 

§ 18. But it is in the sphere of our moral nature 
that I look for beneficial results far more important 
than even the increase of intellectual power, and in 
this more especially through the agency of the poetic 



310 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

element. It is in this realm that we would naturally 
look for the most congenial sphere of action for our 
most ethereal attribute. Conformably to these anticipa- 
tions, I hope to show that, in the formation of charac- 
ter, this power of creating imaginary constructions, and 
of contemplating and perfecting them, exerts an influ- 
ence of the highest importance, which, by cultivation, 
may be enhanced without conceivable limit. This is 
the mode in which our conceptions of mental or mate- 
rial phenomena most nearly supply the place of actual 
experience, and in some respects with decided advan- 
tages. The occasions for actual experience, too, are 
casual and uncertain, while the ideal processes are al- 
ways available. From these supposable events, which 
are constantly flowing through the mind, we form 
rules of conduct, or receive impressions, which govern 
us in the concerns of real life. It is in meditating on 
these that we nurture the innate feelings, sentiments, 
and passions, which not only give impulse to transitory 
action, but become the main elements of the fixed char- 
acter. He who accustoms himself to this discipline, 
who, withdrawn from the bustle of the world, tran- 
quilly contemplates imaginary cases, and determines 
how he ought to act under them, frames for himself a 
system of government with less liability to error than 
is possible in the tumultuous scenes of active life. He 
is not swayed by those interests and passions which so 
often distort or confuse our vision when we act from 
the impulses of immediate and pressing circumstances. 
The ideal formations may not be accurately fitted to 
the occasions which actually arise, but the contingency 
can hardly occur in which some of the vast number 
of them that may be constructed, even by those most 
engrossed with the realities of life, will not in some 



MA^' A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 311 

degree be applicable. They will at least furnish sug- 
gestive analogies, and in the processes lead to habits 
of disinterested thought, which are so essential to the 
successful pursuit of truths, and especially of moral 
truths, which often conflict with the desires of the 
active moment. 

We cannot directly will a change in our mental 
affections any more than in what are termed bodily 
sensations. We cannot directly will the emotions of 
hope or fear, or to be pure and noble, or even to want 
to become pure and noble, any more than we can 
directly will to be hungiy, or to want to be hungry. 
If we want to take food we are already hungry, and 
if we want to perform pure and noble actions, and to 
avoid the impure and ignoble, while this want or dis- 
position prevails we are already intrinsically pure and 
noble. If we want to be hungry, i. e. want to want 
food, and know that by exercise, or by the use of cer- 
tain stimulants, or by otli9r means, we may become 
hungry, we may by effort induce this, in such case, a 
cultivated want ; and if w^e want to want to be pure 
and noble and know the means, we may, in like man- 
ner, by effort gratify the existing want, and induce the 
want, the cultivated want, to become pure and noble. 

If, from seeing the pleasure which admiring a beau- 
tiful flower affords to others, or from any other cause, 
we want to admire it, we will readily perceive that 
some additional knowledge is essential to that end; 
and that the first step is to find, by examination, what 
in it is admirable. To examine then becomes a sec- 
ondary want, and we wdll to examine. The result of 

this examination mav be that its before unknown 

t/ 

beauties excite our admiration, and make it, or the 
gazing upon it, an object of want ; so we may also will 



812 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

to examine what is pure and noble till its developed 
loveliness excites in us, or increases, the want to be 
pure and noble, and induces a correlative aversion to 
what is gross and base. 

The occurrence and recurrence of our spiritual 
wants are as certain as those of hunger. We are con- 
tinually reminded of them by our own thoughts and 
acts, by comparison with those of others, and by the 
external manifestations of God's thought and action ; 
and he has placed within us the moral sense, as a sen- 
tinel, with its intuitions awakening the conscience, and 
warning us of what, in wants or means, is noxious to 
our moral nature with more certainty than the senses 
of taste and smell tell us of what is injurious to our 
physical well-being.^ 

It thus appears that want, constitutional, acquired, 
or cultivated, is the source of effort for internal as well 
as external change. 

The desire to effect some change in the existing or 
anticipated conditions is the only conceivable motive 
for the action of any rational being. 

As a man cannot do any moral wrong in doing what 
he believes to be right, his knowledge, though finite, 
is infallible as to what it is morally right for him to 
do ; and his fallibility in morals must consist in his 
liability to act at variance with his knowledge or con- 
viction of right, and never in deficiency of knowledge, 
or even in belief. In this view his knowledge in the 
sphere of his moral nature is infallible, and were he 
infinitely wise or certain to act in conformity to his 
knowledge of the right, he would be infallible in his 
morals. 

It is also evident that the mind must direct its 

^ See pages 300 and 301. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 313 

efforts for internal change by means of its knowledge, 
including its preconceptions of the character it would 
therein build up. 

Now such preconceptions are imaginary construc- 
tions, incipient creations, in the future. 

In its constructions in the external, the mind does 
not of necessity even consider or recognize the already 
existing external circumstances. In '' castle-building," 
it often voluntarily discards them, and forms a con- 
struction entirely from its own internal resources. 
Retaining its knowledge of the past, and having the 
power of abstraction, it could just as well conceive an 
external creation if all external existences, facts, and 
circumstances were annihilated. A man thus isolated 
might imagine a material universe in which all is in 
his view beautiful and good. He may not make, nor 
even intend to make, the additional effort to actualize 
these combinations and make them palpable to others, 
or permanent within himself. 

He has merely exercised himself in constructive 
effort. So, too, if moved by the aspirations of his 
spiritual being, he may conceive a moral character, 
pure and noble, resisting all temptation to evil, and 
conforming with energetic and persevering effort to 
all virtuous impulses and suggestions. Though he 
may make no effort, and not even intend to make any, 
to realize such ideal conceptions, tliey are not without 
their influence. The constructions thus sportively 
made add to our knowledge of the materials of char- 
acter, and to our skill in combining them. Poetry, 
and fiction in other forms, present us with such con- 
structions ready formed by others. 

The making of such constructions as harmonize 
with our conceptions of moral excellence is in itself 



314 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

improving ; a determination in advance by persevering 
effort to conform our conduct to them is a greater 
step, and the persistent effort to actualize them when 
the occasion for their practical application has arisen, 
is, so far as the moral nature is concerned, really their 
final consummation ; for wliether the proximate object 
of the effort is or is not attained makes no difference 
to its moral quality. The intent or motive is not 
affected by the success or failure of the effort. The 
external effect is but the tangible evidence to others 
of the internal effort which, with the intent, is the real 
manifestation of the moral element. If a man wills 
to do an act which is good and noble, it does not con- 
cern his virtue whether his effort be successful or 
otherwise, the effort is itself the triumph in him of the 
good and noble over the bad and base, and the perse- 
vering effort to be good and noble is itself being good 
and noble. 

It follows from these positions that, as regards the 
moral nature, there can be no failure except the fail- 
ure to will, or to make the proper effort. The human 
mind with its want, knowledge, and faculty of effort, 
having the power within and from itself to form its 
creative preconceptions, and to will their actual real- 
ization independently of any other cause or power, up 
to the point of willing is, in its own sphere, an inde- 
pendent creative first cause. Exterior to itself it may 
not have the power to execute what it wills, it may be 
frustrated by other external forces. Hence, in the 
external the ideal incipient creation may not be con- 
summated by finite effort. But as in our moral nature 
the willing, the persevering, effort is itself the con- 
summation, there can in it be no such failure ; and 
the mind in it is therefore not only a creative, but a 
Supreme Creative First Cause. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 815 

We have, then, between effort in the sphere of the 
moral nature and in that sphere which is external to 
it this marked difference : while in the external there 
must be something beyond the effort, i, e., there must 
be that subsequent change which is the object of the 
effort before the creation is consummated, in the 
sphere of the moral nature the effort for the time 
being is itself the consummation ; and this, if by rep- 
etition, ideal or actual, made habitual^ becomes a per- 
manent constituent of the character, which, through 
habitual action^ will be obvious to others — will be a 
permanent i^alpahle creation. 

In his internal sphere, then, man has to the fullest 
extent the powers in which he is so deficient in the 
external. In it he can make his incipient creations 
palpable and permanent constituents of his own moral 
character. 

§ 19. In this permanent incorporation of them with 
his moral nature habit has a very important agency. 
This may be cultivated and its efficiency increased by 
intelligent attention, and through it the ideals, the 
scenic representations which are continually being 
acted in the theatre within us, may be made available 
in advance of actual experience, for which, as already 
suggested, they serve as a substitute, and with some 
decided advantages in their favor. 

In the spliere of its oicn moral nature, then, what- 
ever the finite mind really wills is as immediately and 
as certainly executed as is the will of Omnipotence 
in its sphere of action, for the willing in such case is 
itself the final accomplishment, the terminal effect, of 
the creative effort. 

We must here be careful to distinguish between 
that mere abstract judgment, or knowledge of what is 



316 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

desirable in our moral nature, and the want and the 
effort to attain it. A man may know that it is best 
for him to be pure and noble, and yet, in view of some 
expected or habitual gratification, not only not want 
to be now pure and noble, but be absolutely opposed 
to being made so, even if some external power could 
and would effect it for him. We may, however, re- 
mark that, as the moral quality of the action lies 
wholly in the will, and no other being can will for 
him, to be morally good without his own effort is an 
impossibility ; all that any other being can do for him 
in this respect is to increase his knowledge and excite 
his wants, and thus induce him to put forth his own 
efforts. Even Omnipatence can do no more than this, 
for to make a man virtuous without his own voluntary 
cooperation involves a contradiction. The increase of 
virtuous efforts indicates an improvement in the char- 
acter of the cultivated wants and an increase of the 
knowledge by which right action is incited and di- 
rected. The influence of such knowledge and wants, 
becoming persistent and fixed by habit, forms, as it 
were, the substance of virtuous character. 

In the sphere of the internal as well as in the ex- 
ternal, the last we know of our agency in producing 
change is our effort. But in our moral nature the ef- 
fort is itself the consummation. The effort of a man 
to be pure and noble is actually being pure and noble. 
The virtue in the time of that effort all lies in, or in 
and within, the effort and the intent, and not in its 
success or failure. It is for the time being just as 
perfect if no external or no permanent results follow 
the effort. If the good efforts are transitory, the 
moral goodness will be equally so, and may be as mere 
flashes of light upon the gloom of a settled moral 
depravity. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 317 

§ 20. Nor does tlie nature of the actual resulting 
effect make any difference to the moral quality of the 
effort. A man's intentions may be most virtuous, and 
yet the actual consequences of his efforts be most per- 
nicious. On the other hand, a man may be as selfish in 
doing acts in themselves beneficent — may do good to 
others with as narrow calculations of personal benefit 
— as in doing those acts which he knows will be most 
injurious to his fellow-men ; and doing such good for 
selfish ends manifests no virtue, whether that end be 
making money or reaching heaven, and brings with it 
neither the self-approval nor the elevating influences 
of generous self-forgetting or self-sacrificing action. 

A man who is honest only because it is the more 
gainfid would be dishonest if the gains thereby were 
sufficiently increased. Such honesty may indicate 
that he is intelligent and discreet, but virtue is not 
reached till he acts, not from sordid and selfish calcu- 
lations, but from a sense of right and duty. And 
virtue is not consummated and established in him till 
he feels the wrono;-doino^ as a wound, leaving: a blem- 
ish on the beauty and a stain on the purity of the 
moral character, the preservation and improvement of 
which has become his high absorbing interest, and the 
construction and ideal contemplation of which he has 
come to appreciate and to value above all other pos- 
sessions and all possible acquisitions. 

The consequences of a volition may prove that it 
was unwise, but cannot affect its moral status. If at 
the time of the effort one neither did nor omitted to 
do anything in violation of his own perceptions or 
sense of duty, he did no moral w^rong, and any subse- 
quent consequences cannot change the moral nature of 
the past action. No blame or wrong can be imputed 
to one who did the best he knew. 



318 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

Again, no moral wrong can pertain to a man for 
any event in which he has had and could have no 
agency, which he could neither promote nor obstruct. 
Until he has put forth effort against his knowledge oi 
duty, or omitted to put it forth in conformity with this 
knowledge, there can be no moral wrong. There is 
no present moral wrong, either in the knowledge now 
in his mind or in the exciting want which he now feels. 
There may have been moral wrong in the acquisition 
of any knowledge, or in the omission to acquire any, 
which required an effort. Such acquisition or omis- 
sion may have then been counter to his conviction of 
right. 

There can be no moral wrong in the acquisition of 
that knowledge wdiich he unintentionally acquires. 
That a man involuntarily knows that the sun shines, 
or that a drum is beating, cannot be morally WTong in 
itself. So, likewise, that any knowledge now actually 
has place in his mind, can, of itself, involve no pres- 
ent moral wrong-doing, tliough the fact that it is there 
may be evidence of a previous moral wrong committed 
in its acquisition. This he cannot now prevent. Such 
knowledge may have so polluted his moral nature, that 
it will require an effort to purify it. The polluting 
arose from the previous effort to acquire, or, negatively, 
from not making the effort to prevent acquiring, and 
not from the mere fact of possessing the knowledge, 
which is now beyond his control, and does not, of 
itself, alter the moral condition from that state in 
which the wrong of acquisition left it, though every 
wrong application of it may do so. 

So, also, in regard to the natural wants. There is 
no moral wrong in the mere fact of their recurrence. 
There may be moral wrong in our willing to gratify a 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 319 

yv^aut which should not be gratified, or in entertaining 
or cultivating one which should be discarded or eradi- 
cated, or in the time or in the mode of the gratification. 
That such want exists at all, or that it should recur at 
such time, may be proof of a previous wrong effort 
in cultivating the want, or of an omission to control 
or eradicate it, or to cultivate some conflicting want ; 
but if its present recurrence is not by our own effort, 
such recurrence, of itself, can involve no present 
moral wrong, and merely furnishes the occasion for 
virtuous effort to resist what is wrong, or to foster and 
strengthen what is right. The want may indicate the 
present condition of the moral nature, while it also 
supplies the opportunities which make both improve- 
ment and degeneracy possible. Though that condition 
may be comparatively low in the scale, yet an effort 
to advance from it may be as truly and purely virtu- 
ous as a like effort at any higher point. 

In the present moment^ then, the knowledge and the 
want, which exist prior to effort, involve no present 
moral right and wrong ; and as we have already shown 
that the sequence of the effort does not, it follows that 
the moral right and wrong are all concentrated in 
the effort, or act of will, which is our own free act. 

This and some preceding results are perhaps suffi- 
ciently attested by the consideration that the goodness 
or badness in which one has no agency, or of which 
he is not the cause, is not his goodness or badness, 
and he can have such agency or be such cause only 
by his act of will. 

Efforts to be pure and noble, and for corresponding 
external action, may become habitual, and hence com- 
paratively easy. Through habit, memory performs 
the same office for our acquirements in acting that 



320 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

it does for our acquisitions of knowledge, retaining 
or Jiolding fast what is acquired^ and thus leaving 
the mind at liberty to employ itself in new acquisi- 
tions, new progress in knowledge, including modes of 
action. 

We may further observe, in this connection, that 
our moral wants are more under the control of the 
mind's acts of will than the physical conditions of 
bodily wants; and though we cannot directly will not 
to think of a thing, yet, by willing to think of some- 
thing else, we may displace and banish other thought ; 
so, too, though we cannot directly will the removal of 
a want, yet we can put it away by directing our at- 
tention to something else, or by inducing another 
want in its place. And though this is especially true 
of the moral wants, it partially applies also to the 
physical. We know, for instance, that by exercise 
and fasting we can induce hunger ; and we may find 
means of inducing any moral want, and by the use of 
these means, some of which I have already suggested, 
may give one moral want a preponderance over an- 
other, which, by repetition becoming habitual, will go 
far to eradicate it and to modify the influence even 
of a physical want. In such a case the want will 
then offer no inducement, no temptation ; but after 
the primary want is eradicated there may arise an- 
other want from association of former acts of will 
with enjoyment, which still is a want, the gratification 
of which is tempting. Habit also may have its in- 
fluence after the want ceases. 

If entirely eradicated, there can be no correspond- 
ing volition, and a man habitually holy, who has erad- 
icated the conflicting wants, has annihilated the con- 
ditions requisite to his willing what is unholy ; and 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 321 

as he cannot be unholy except by his own voluntary 
act, he has then no power to be unholy. This is, 
perhaps, a condition to which a finite moral being may 
forever approximate but never actually reach, never 
attain that condition in which it is absolutely unable 
to will what is impure and ignoble. 

But by these creative efforts fresh elements of moral 
character have been produced, which by the assimilat- 
ing and solidifying forces of habit may become per- 
manent accretions to the moral nature, a second nature, 
not less secure against the ordinary vicissitudes and 
temptations of life than the innate or earlier acquired 
principles or modes of action. 

Through the knowledge of the means of giving 
to some of our internal wants a predominance over 
others, v/e are enabled by effort to influence our moral 
characteristics at their very source. Even under cir- 
cumstances least favorable to the recognition of our 
spiritual condition, amid the engrossments of sense, 
the excitements of passion, or the turmoil of absorb- 
ing business, external events will often suggest our 
moral wants, while in cahn and thoughtful moments 
they present themselves as spontaneously as thirst in 
a summer's day. 

§ 21. Having now shown that we can cultivate our 
wants, and give one or the other of conflicting wants 
the ascendency, and promote one to the at least partial 
exclusion of others ; that the knowledge of each indi- 
vidual as to what is morally right for him is infallible ; 
that the mind can form an ideal construction or precon- 
ception within itself without reference to any external 
existence ; that it can freely make efforts to realize 
such construction ; and that nothing heyond the effort 
has any influence upon the moral quality of the effort, 



322 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

or of the agent making it, we may more confidently 
than before deduce the conclusion, that the mind in 
the sphere of its own moral nature, applying an in- 
fallible knowledge which it possesses to material 
purely its own, may conceive an ideal moral creation, 
and then realize this ideal in an actual creation by 
and in its own act of will ; and hence, when willing 
in the sphere of his own moral nature, man is not 
only a creative first cause, but a supreme creative first 
cause ; and, as his moral nature can be affected only 
by his own act of will, and no other power can will 
or produce his own act of will, he is also, in the 
sphere of his moral nature, a sole creative first cause, 
though still a finite cause. Other intelligences may 
aid him by imparting knowledge ; may by word or 
action instruct him in the architecture ; but the ap- 
plication of this knowledge, the actual building, must 
be by himself alone. Though finite, his efficiency as 
cause, in this sphere, is limited only by that limit of 
all creative power, the incompatible, or contradictory ; 
and by his conceptions of change in his moral nature, 
which are dependent upon the extent of his knowl- 
edge ; and, in this view, the will itself having no 
bounds of its own, may be regarded as infinite, though 
the range for its action is finite ; or in other words, 
within the sphere of its moral nature, the finite mind 
can will any possible change of which it can conceive, 
or of which it can form a preconception ; and as the 
willing it is the consummation of this preconception, 
there is no change in our moral being, which we can 
conceive of, that we have not the ability to consum- 
mate by effort ; and as, so far as we know, our power 
to conceive of new progress — to form new concep- 
tions of change — enlarges with every consummation 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 323 

of a previous conception, there is no reason to suppose 
that there is any absolute limit to our moral sphere 
of effort ; but that it is only relatively and tempora- 
rily circumscribed by our finite perceptions, which, 
having a finite rate of increase, may forever continue 
to expand in it without pressing on its outermost 
bound ; and, if all these positions are true, every in- 
telligent moral being capable of conceiving of higher 
ethical conditions than he has yet attained, has in his 
own moral nature, for the exercise of his creative 
powers, an infinite sphere, within which, with knowl- 
edge there infallible, he is the supreme disposer ; and 
in which, without his free will, nothing is made, but 
all the creations in it are as singly and solely his as 
if no other power or cause existed ; and for which he 
is, of course, as singly and solely responsible as God 
is for the creations in that sphere in which he mani- 
fests his creative power, though, as a finite created 
being, man, even in this his own allotted realm, may 
still be properly accountable for the use of his crea- 
tive powers to him who gave them. 

§ 22. The gratification of some of our physical 
wants being essential to our present existence, they 
are most imperative and have precedence, but they are 
in their nature limited and temporary, and, when grat- 
ified, cease to demand our effort. In this their func- 
tion seems to be to train the mind to habits of perse- 
vering effort, and thus fit it for the exercise of its 
powers in the gratification of the nobler wants of its 
moral being. 

In contrast with our phj^sical, our spiritual wants 
are boundless and insatiable. In our want for progress 

— for something better than we have yet attained 

— our activity finds an illimitable sphere, and in our 
want for activity, exhaustless sources of p-ratification. 



324 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

§ 23. The examination of past experience and of 
supposed cases may in some sort be performed in the 
prosaic mode of verbal representation or logical reason- 
ing ; but, from the time required, it is impossible that 
this method should be generally resorted to, and when 
it is, though it may establish general principles, it is 
less moving and has a less direct influence on the con- 
duct than those scenic representations which are so 
faithfully acted upon the secluded theatre within us. 
Ideality is in this respect the nearest approach to 
reality, 

§ 24. There is peculiar consolation and encourage- 
ment in the fact that mind possesses in these ideal 
processes an inherent power of modifying material and 
other extrinsic influences ; that it has an incentive 
which is as potent in our spiritual nature as sensation 
is in our physical. 

Fortunately, too, the occasions of life which have a 
tendency to warp the disposition, though frequent, are 
transient, have their intervals, and in some degree 
neutralize each other. The ideal conceptions may al- 
ways be brought to mind, and if we habitually encour- 
age the presence of those only which are pure and 
elevated, we shall as a consequence become more and 
more refined and ennobled. 

Without this countervailing element our moral na- 
ture would seem to be largely the sport of chance, lia- 
ble to be driven from its proper course by every cur- 
rent of feeling and every storm of passion. Character 
would then chiefly depend on accidental extrinsic 
circumstances. 

These ideal processes early give a pleasurable exer- 
cise to the mind, and, like other sports of youth, are a 
preparation for sterner work, when from the inflex- 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 325 

ible material of permanent principles we would con- 
struct an enduring moral character. We enact these 
scenic representations as an alluring gratification, and 
naturally find pleasure in perfecting our ideal crea- 
tions. 

Our first creative efforts are probably in the mate- 
rial. The child early forms ideal constructions, and 
seeks with clay or blocks to give them a tangible ob- 
jective existence. It thus makes its first essays in 
creative effort. Its efforts, however, are early trans- 
ferred to the spiritual, and ideas of moral beauty and 
grandeur, and of glory, honor, and renown, as the re- 
sults of lofty character and noble action, find place in 
the young imagination, and furnish the materials and 
the incentive to such ideal constructions. These may 
be evanescent, but in vanishing they will still leave 
visions of grace, beauty, and purity. 

We are thus at an early period of life introduced 
into the domain of constructive moral effort, and the 
quickening influence which the soul receives in this 
direction, when the first revelations of unselfish and 
romantic passion fill it with ideals of loveliness, grace, 
and elevation, and inspire it with pure and lofty 
sentiment and energetic virtue, attests the beneficent 
provision for our early moral culture. 

But these benign endowments, so potent for good, 
are liable to be perverted to evil. We have alluded 
to our physical wants as the more imperative, but as 
temporary, leaving us much intervening time to attend 
to the spiritual. The influence of these temporal 
wants is, however, made less inconstant by the sec- 
ondary want of acquisition ; the want to provide in 
advance the means of gratifying the primary wants 
when they recur. To this acquisitiveness, even when 



826 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

gratification of the physical wants is its sole object, 
there seems to be no limit, and this may permanently 
become the habitual object of effort to the exclusion 
of the spiritual. 

To restrain the influence of the processes of ideality 
within such narrow limits is unnatural. By doing so 
the individual voluntarily foregoes the pleasures which 
arise from the generous emotions, cuts off their con- 
nection with the springs of action, and substitutes nar- 
row prudential calculations, low cunning, and artifice, 
which cramp and degrade the moral nature, and ex- 
clude its finer feeling and nobler aspirations. 

The power which through ideality we exert over our 
moral nature, though less nobly exhibited, is as 
strongly attested in its degrading as in its elevating 
influences ; in the aggravation of selfishness, for in- 
stance, no less than in the development of the gener- 
ous virtues. In the latter case, it seems to advance 
freely, allured by the delights which attend its pro- 
gress. In the former it is forced back against the 
current of ifcs affections and the repulsion of conscious 
self-debasement. 

It seems strange that a labor thus painful in its per- 
formance and baneful in its results should ever be ac- 
complished. It is probably in most cases hastily done, 
in view of some immediate gratification, without con- 
sidering its permanent pernicious influence, and finally 
effected and confirmed by magnifying the advantages 
of selfishness, or the sacrifices of immediate personal 
interests, which a yielding to generous impulses may 
have occasioned. The avaricious miser looks upon a 
liberal man as one too weak to subdue the liberal im- 
pulses or resist the pleasure of yielding to them. He 
knows the pain and labor which his own prudence has 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 327 

cost him, and congratulates himself on his exemption 
from such benevolent frailties. 

§ 25. The elevating influences of ideality are needed 
to counteract the tendencies of a social system based 
largely on selfishness, and to neutralize the utilitarian, 
materialistic, comfort- seeking proclivities of this me- 
chanical and commercial age. 

But ideal constructions have been discouraged and 
repressed as a waste of time, stigmatized as mere spray, 
or vapors, idle imaginings leading to groundless hopes 
and illusive views of life. Relieving these processes 
from obstruction and perversion, and leaving them to 
their natural course in forming the moral character, 
would be a very important gain on present conditions. 

And this might be affirmatively supplemented by 
systematic education in this mode of moral culture, 
making the ideal constructions a subject of study, as 
an artist now studies his models and pencil sketches 
with a view to their reproduction in more perfect and 
permanent forms. 

There is at once confirmation of our theory and en- 
couragement as to its practical application in the fact 
that woman, to whose guiding care the infant intelli- 
gence is naturally confided, is by her special endow- 
ment of poetic modes of thought and expression so 
fully equipped for this important work. 

I deem it but a reasonable anticipation that when- 
ever this means of moral culture shall begin to be ap- 
preciated, and even moderately developed, the effects 
upon the advancement, upon the elevation and happi- 
ness, of mankind will be such as not only to relieve 
metaphysics from the reproach of being unfruitful, but 
to show that as it embraces the largest and grandest 
realm of human thought, it is productive of the most 



328 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

important and elevated utility, a utility far transcend- 
ing all that has been realized in the domain of the 
material. 

When philosophy shall have fairly entered upon 
this higher sphere of mental effort for mental progress, 
it may again disdain its application to any less elevated 
or less elevating pursuit. But still, when from their 
celestial heights its votaries look down upon the en- 
during and beneficent achievement of their predeces- 
sors, upon the solid foundation in physical science 
upon which they are themselves building their more 
ethereal superstructure, we may trust that they will at 
least concede to them the merit of having faithfully, 
intelligently, and vigorously performed their part in 
the more humble sphere of physical research, and will 
accord something even of grandeur and of glory to an 
age which from the chaotic sense-perceptions evolved a 
material universe of order and beauty, and, taming the 
wild forces of nature, made them subservient to the 
enjoyment and progress of man ; enabling him with- 
out excessive labor to make that ample provision for 
his physical comforts which was, perhaps, a prerequi- 
site condition to effort for a higher spiritual culture. 

§ 26. In metaphysics the progress from abstract 
speculation to practical utility has not differed from 
that of the other sciences. All appear to have been at 
first pursued from a natural love of truth, an inherent 
curiosity stimulated by opposing mysteries without 
reference to ulterior benefit. Is this pursuit but the 
manifestation in us of an instinct nobler in its nature 
and ministering to higher purposes than those which 
are essential to our physical existence ? Or may not 
it and the love of approbation and the desire for fame 
be properly regarded as blind appetites of an elevated 
character ? 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 829 

The Greek geometricians when patiently investigat- 
ing the conic sections had no thought of the use which 
a Newton would make of their discoveries, and when 
Huyghens discovered the polarity of light he had no 
idea that the suo:ar refiner would eventuallv use it to 
test the value, for his purpose, of a cargo of molasses. 

So, too, metaphysics has been wrought upon for 
ages for no other reason than that it furnished a pleas- 
urable and invigorating exercise to the intellect, a 
utility no higher or more direct than might be derived 
from whist or chess. 

§ 27. It will be observed, too, that the solutions of 
the three problems which, with a very dim vision of 
their consequences, I have investigated, and to which 
I have in this paper invited attention, were, if not es- 
sential prerequisites, very important aids in reaching 
the particular practical utility I have herein suggested. 

The first of these was the analysis of the funda- 
mental distinction between poetry and prose, and the 
finding that this distinction is the same as that be- 
tween the two cardinal modes by which we seek for 
truth. 

The second was our investigation as to man's 
freedom in willing and the fixing his status as an in- 
dependent creative power in the universe ; the exer- 
cise of these powers in the external being very limited 
and liable to be frustrated by other independent pow- 
ers, while in the sphere of his own internal being he 
is supreme, and can there at will consummate his ideal 
constructions and make them palpable and persistent 
while he so wills. 

The third was the inquiry as to the diiference be- 
tween instinctive and rational actions, and in this in- 
cidentally determining the nature and functions of 



830 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE, 

habit by which these subjective constructions may be 
made permanent formations of the moral character and 
incorporated into our being as a second nature. 

The first was essential to the discovery and com- 
prehension of the creative powers which inhere in the 
poetic element, and to the appreciation of its capabil- 
ities in its especially appropriate realm of the spirit- 
ual, and its important agency in there forming and 
elevating the moral character. 

The second presents the proof of man's free agency, 
without which, if he could be said to have a moral 
nature, he could have no agency in its formation or 
improvement, and no responsibility for its character. 
If he could be said to have any virtue, he could have 
no means or opportunity to manifest it in action. 
There could be no exhibition of it in beneficent action 
touching himself or others, and he could not use his 
creative powers for self-improvement or for any other 
purpose. 

And, third, without the agency of habit, our acqui- 
sitions in moral action would all be evanescent, and 
there could no more be progress in moral character 
than there could be in knowledge without memory. 
But by this conservative function of habit all of these 
acquisitions which we sanction by repetition in action, 
or by harboring in thought, are incorporated into and 
become permanent accretions to our moral character, 
and veritable exponents of it. That our own action 
is thus required in the formation of habits brings 
them in their incipiency within our own control ; but 
from the greater ease with which we perform actions 
for which we have the plan ready formed, it requires 
energy and vigilance to prevent falling into habits 
which our judgment does not approve. To eradicate 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 331 

them at a later period requires mucli more labor and 
increased vigilance. 

§ 28. We have now endeavored to show : that the 
only efficient cause of which we have any real knowl- 
edge is mind in action, and that there cannot be any 
unintelligent cause whatever. 

That every being endowed with knowledge, feeling, 
and volition is, in virtue of these attributes, a self- 
active independent power, and in a sphere which is 
commensurate with its knowledge a creative first cause 
therein, freely exerting its powers to modify the future 
and make it different from what it otherwise would 
be ; and that the future is always the composite result 
of the action of all such intelligent creative beings. 

That in this process of creating the future every 
such conative being, from the highest to the lowest, 
acts with equal and perfect freedom, though each one, 
by its power to change the conditions to be acted upon, 
or rather, by such change of the conditions, or other- 
wise, to change the knowledge of all others, may influ- 
ence the free action of any or all of them, and thus 
cause such free action of others to be different from 
what but for his own action it would have been. 

That every such being has innately the ability to 
will, i, e. make effort, which is self-activity ; and also 
the knowledge that by effort it can put in action the 
powers by which it produces changes within or with- 
out itself. 

That the only conceivable inducement or motive of 
such being to effort is a desire — a want — to modify 
the future, for the gratification of which it directs its 
effort by means of its knowledge. 

That when such being so directs its effort by means 
of its innate knowledge, it is what is called an instinc- 



332 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

tive effort, but is still a self -directed, and consequently 
a free., effort. 

That when the mode or plan of action is devised by 
itself, by its own preliminary effort, it is a rational 
action.^ 

That when, instead of devising a plan for the occa- 
sion, we through memory adopt one which we have 
previously formed, we have the distinguishing charac- 
teristic of hahitual action. 

In the instinctive and habitual we act promptly 
from a plan ready formed in the mind, requiring no 
premeditation as to the mode or plan of action. 

But in all cases our effort is incited by our want, 
and directed by means of our knowledge, to the de- 
sired end, which, whatever the particular exciting want, 
is always to in some way affect the future. In our 
efforts to do this in the sphere external to us, which is 
the common arena of all intelligent activity, we are 
liable to be more or less counteracted or frustrated by 
the efforts of others. In it man is a co-worker with 
God and with all other conative beings, and in it can 
influence the actual flow of events only in a degree 
somewhat proportioned to his limited power and knowl- 
edge. 

But that in the sphere of man's own moral nature 
the effort is itself the consummation of his creative 
conceptions, and hence in this sphere man is a supreme 
creative first cause, limited in the effects he may then 
produce only by that limit of his knowledge by which 
his creative preconceptions are circumscribed. 

And further; that as a man directs his act by means 
of his knowledge, and can morally err only by know- 
ingly willing what is wrong, his knowledge as to this 
is infallible ; and as his willing is his own free act, an 
1 See Note X. p. 347. 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 333 

act which no other beuig or power can do for him, he 
is in the sphere of his moral nature a sole creative 
cause solely responsible for his action in it. 

His only possible moral wrong is in his freely will- 
ing counter to his knowledge of right. He must have 
known the wrong at the time he willed, or it would not 
be a moral wrong. Hence the knowledge by which he 
directs his acts of will is here as infallible as that of 
omniscience, and his power to will within the limits of 
his knowledge being unlimited, he cannot excuse him- 
self on the ground of his own fallible nature, but is 
fully and solely responsible for all the wrong he in- 
tended, or which he foresaw and might by right action 
have prevented. Conversely, a rightful action indi- 
cates no virtue beyond the knowledge and intent of 
the actor. The failure to make an effort demanded 
by the convictions of right is in itself a wrong. That 
in the domain of his own moral nature man is thus 
supreme indicates it as his especial sphere of activity. 
Ages of successful effort in the material has been the 
preparation for its successful occupation, and we may 
reasonably expect that the advance into the more ethe- 
real realm of the spiritual will be marked by the sub- 
limest efforts of pure and lofty thought, and that the 
results in it will be the crowning glory of all utility. 

§ 29. In favor of these conclusions and against the 
doctrines of necessity and of sole material causation, I 
would here suo-o^est an additional argument from final 
causes. 

I cannot demonstrate, but I have a confiding faith 
that all progress in truth will increase the happiness 
and conduce to the elevation of man, and also in the 
converse of this, that whatever tends to diminish our 
happiness and degrade our position will be found to be 
erroneous. 



834 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

It is clear that, by adopting the materialistic views, 
we should be deprived of all the dignity of conscious 
power, and with it of all the cheering and elevating 
influences of the performance of duty, for that which 
has no power can have no duties. Instead of a com- 
panionship with a superior intelligence, communicating 
his thoughts to us in the grandeur and beauty of the 
material universe, — the poetic imagery, the poetic 
language, of which it is the pure and perfect type, — 
and in his yet higher and more immediate manifesta- 
tions in the soul, we should be doomed to an inglorious 
'fellowship with insensate matter, and subjected to its 
blind forces. That sublime power, that grandeur of 
effort, bj^ which the gifted logician, with resistless 
demonstration, permeates and subdues realms which it 
tasks the imagination to traverse, and that yet more 
God-like power by which the poet commands light to 
be, and light breaks through chaos upon his beautiful 
creations, would no more awaken our admiration or in- 
cite us to lofty effort. We should be degraded from 
the high and responsible position of independent 
poVers in the universe, co-workers with God in creat- 
ing the future, to a condition of mere machines and 
instruments operated by '' stimuli " and " molecules " ; 
and though still with knowledge and sensibility to 
know and feel our degraded position, — " so abject, 
yet alive," — with no power to apply our knowledge 
in effort to extricate and to elevate ourselves. We 
might still have the knowledge of good and evil ; but 
having no power to foster the one, or to resist the 
other, this knowledge, with all its inestimable conse- 
quences, all the aspirations which it awakens, and all 
the incentives to noble deeds which it in combination 
with effort alone makes possible, would be lost. And 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 335 

this dreary debasement would be unrelieved by that 
last hope which now mitigates our worst despair, — 
the hope that death will bring relief. For all muta- 
tion now being but changes in the indestructible atoms 
of matter, by means of its motion which is also inde- 
structible and eternal, there would be little left to die, 
as there would again be little left for which to live. 
For all this I see no compensation in the materialistic 
doctrines now so predominant. 

§ 30. We have observed that all our efforts are in- 
cited by our wants ; that in our physical nature there 
is an innate constitutional provision by which they 
recur without any agency of our own ; and there 
seems to be good reason to believe that through a 
moral sense, or other constitutional provision, the 
wants of our spiritual nature also recur without our 
bidding. And we can hardly fail to see a portion of 
this provision in our constantly recurring aspirations 
for something higher and better than we have yet 
attained ; and in all our aesthetic tastes, the delicate 
sensibilities of which are continually touched by the 
significant and suggestive beauty, harmony, and gran- 
deur of God's visible creations, with their ever varying 
expression appealing directly to the soul in that poetic 
language of imagery and analogy which is compre- 
hended by all, and exerts on all a persuasive and ele- 
vating influence. We are thus continually reminded 
of the wants and the capacities of our spiritual being, 
for no one capable of reflection can look upon the 
exquisite models, the vast, the grand, the beautiful, 
the perfect, thus presented to us, and not see that to 
all this there is a counterpart ; that there is something 
which perceives and appreciates, as well as something 
which is perceived and appreciated ; that within his 



336 MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

own being there is an inchoate universe, to him as 
boundless, and which is his especial sphere of crea- 
tive action. Here is opened to his efforts an infinity 
of space in which, as already shown, he is a supreme 
creative power, a sphere already canopied with twink- 
ling thoughts, dimly revealing the chaotic elements 
requiring his efforts to reduce to order and cultivate 
into beauty, and making visible a darkness which con- 
tinually demands from him the fiat, " Let there he 
light,^^ Constructing this universe within is the great 
object of existence, the principal if not the sole end 
of life. 

Happy he who, faithfully working in the seclusion 
of this his own allotted space, so constructs this in- 
ternal universe, that when from the genetic void it 
breaks upon the gaze of superior intelligences, all the 
sons of God will shout for joy, and the great Ai chi- 
tect shall himself pronounce it GOOD, 



NOTES 



Note I. 



The phrase " First Cause " is used not in relation to time, but 
to indicate an independent, originating cause. 

Note II. 

I have elsewhere defined cause to be " that which produces 
change." Cause always implies the exercise of power, with which 
it is often very nearly identical. When this exercise of power 
is wholly insufficient and produces no effect, it will perhaps be 
most convenient not to regard it as cause, and it is excluded by 
the definition, " that which produces change." 

But when one power in action is directly counteracted by an- 
other, so that neither produces any change, but only prevents the 
change which the other alone would produce, each of the powers 
is still effective, and perhaps should be regarded as cause, — the 
cause of things remaining unchanged, — and a better definition 
of cause may be, that which makes the future different from what it 
otherwise would he. 

Note III. 

I have argued, from the admitted qualities and properties of 
mind and matter, that mind — intelligence — in action is the only 
real cause, and especially that this alone can begin change. 
That in virtue of its distinguishing characteristics of feeling, 
knowledge, and volition, it is within itself a self-acting cause, 
capable of acting without being first acted upon, and being thus 
endowed at its birth, its earliest actions — the instinctive — 
are, like all its subsequent ones, voluntary efforts suggested 
by its feelings and directed by its knowledge to the change 
desired. That the knowledge essential to such direction of the 
effort is innate, or exists from the moment of birth, is a legiti- 



838 NOTES, 

mate inference, because the most simple that the observed facts 
admit of, and at the same time most in harmony with all our 
subsequent observation and experience. These genetic instinc- 
tive actions are thus found to be subject to the same conditions 
as our subsequent rational actions, all being voluntary actions, 
suggested by feeling and directed by knowledge to the end 
wanted. 

The advocates of materialistic causation in the outset, as might 
have been anticipated, encounter serious difficulty as to the gen- 
esis of action or change. For the inauguration of change, a self- 
active power, or cause, is essential. We do not differ materially 
as to the problem presented for solution. Bain, one of the most 
able and thorough expounders of the materialistic doctrine, says, 
" The link between action and feeling for the end of promoting the 
pleasure of exercise is the precise link that must exist from the 
commencement ; the pleasure results from the movement, and re- 
sponds by sustaining and increasing it. The delight thus feeds 
itself^ ^ Passing over some of the many assumptions of this 
statement, I would inquire how began, or whence came, this 
'^commencement''^ of this '^ movement ^^^ from which results the 
pleasure of exercise which responds by sustaining and increasing 
it, and thus feeds itself^ In the same paragraph, in connection 
with such muscular exercise, he speaks of " spontaneous move- 
ments being commenced," and after it says, " We must suppose 
the rise of an accidental movement," and again of " the random 
tentatives arising through spontaneity.'' From all this the legiti- 
mate inference seems to be, that he regards these movements as 
commencing without any cause or reason whatever. The mate- 
rialistic theory could reach no further than this, and here stops 
far short of the generalization by which I have identified these 
genetic instinctive movements with our subsequent voluntary, 
rational actions, with no generic difference in the actions them- 
selves, which are only distinguished by the different manner in 
which we become possessed of the knowledge by means of which 
we direct our efforts to produce such movements. 

The advocates of material causation rely much upon physi- 
ology to support their views, and think they find empirical con- 
firmation of them in the phenomena of the nervous system- — its 
material structure of brain, spinal column, ganglions, and nerve 
centres, with its connecting and permeating nerve fibres, with 
1 The Emotions and the Will. Will, chap. ii. p 315. 



NOTES. 389 

nerve currents, similar to the electric, flowing through them. 
This is a very interesting and a very useful branch of physiolog- 
ical research, but I fail to see its bearing upon the question as to 
what is the efficient cause, and what its nature and properties. 

Suppose a man is looking at the machinery in a mill, the pro- 
pelling power of which is, as is common, in a separate room. 
The observer, in tracing the source of motion, finds first the main 
shaft or axis coming through the division wall which limits his 
sight, and upon it a very large main or driving wheel, or pulley. 
This main shaft extending through a large portion of the room, 
and having upon it other lesser pulleys, from which other mo- 
tion is communicated by belts to other shafts on either side, and 
from these, and in some cases directly from the main shaft, the 
motion is communicated by smaller belts to the various machines, 
and in some of these by small cords to each portion of them. 
In this arrangement, with its large driving wheel at the bead of 
the main shaft with other pulleys on the same, with the belts lead- 
ing from them and putting other shafts on each side in motion, 
and the smaller belts and cords giving motion to each separate 
machine, and finally, in some, to each minute individual part — 
each particular spindle, — we have an apparatus very analogous 
to that of the brain, spinal axis, ganglia, or nervous centres, and 
connecting and permeating fibres of the nervous system ; but no 
one, by any examination of the phenomena, would, in this appli- 
cation and distribution of the power to the machinery, learn any- 
thing as to the nature or kind of power in the adjoining room. 
He could only learn what it could do. He could not even tell 
whether it was a steam-engine or a water-wheel. In view of 
the results of physical science its votaries would not hesitate to 
assert that, be it what it may, the solar heat is one of the inter- 
mediate agencies of its efficacy, and, if my views are correct, it 
is at least equally certain that in regard to both the mill and the 
nervous system the genesis of the power is intelligence in action. 

Many of Bain's statements as to the spinal axis, the ganglia, 
the nerves with their nerve currents and counter currents pass- 
ing to and fro in the transmission and distribution of power, 
would require very little change in the phraseology to make 
them pertinent to the shafts, pulleys, and belts which constitute 
the motor apparatus of the mill. 

He says, " When the mind is in exercise of its functions, the 
physical accompaniment is the passing and repassing of innumer- 



340 NOTES, 

able streams of nervous influence," and as an inference from 
this, says, '* It seems as if we might say, No currents, no mindJ^ ^ 

So, too, when the steam-engine, or other motive power, of the 
mill is performing its functions, there is a constant passing and 
repassing of the belts through which its power or influence is dis- 
tributed and communicated to the machinery ; but the logical in- 
ference in both cases seems to be, not that in the absence of these 
movements there would be no power or cause, but simply that 
when there is no action of the power or cause there is no effect. If 
the apparatus ceased to move, we could not thence conclude that 
the unseen power had ceased to exist. It might be merely de- 
tached, and with undiminished vigor still be performing its func- 
tions, and even with its activity increased, by being rid of the 
attachments which had encumbered and retarded it. 

The conclusion of Bain assumes that ths " passing and repass- 
ing " — the movement — is itself the genetic cause to which there 
is no antecedent cause. He thus consistently puts it in the same 
category with those '* accidental movements '^ and " random ten- 
tatives " of which he has before spoken. 

Note IV. 

By this definition Edwards makes the will an instrument of the 
mind, and then speaks of the freedom of the will. Under such a 
definition one might as well spsak of the freedom of the hammer 
which he is using to drive a nail, as of the " freedom of the will." 
The definition virtually begs the question. 

An instrument must be controlled and directed by that which 
uses it, and hence, if I have rightly defined freedom, cannot be 
free ; but the intelligent power, the mind, that controls and di- 
rects it, may be. 

Note V. 

If we call the knowledge by which we direct our instinctive ac- 
tions innate, and all that we subsequently acquire without effort 
intuitive, the only application of the term instinctive will be to 
actions ; or to ideas, or knowledge horn in us, after our own 
birth, without our agency. Of this there are some indications in 
our subsequent experience. 

1 The Senses and the Intellect, 2d edition, § 25, p. 66. 



NOTES, 341 

Note YI. 
In my father's house we had a large black Newfoundland dog, 
named Gelert, with which my youngest sister and two other 
little girls had much amusement. They had a little carriage in 
which they harnessed him, he seeming to take a lively interest 
in all their sports, and a full share of the enjoyment. He was a 
favorite of all our large household. At one time, by his absence 
at night, he subjected himself to suspicion, and it was resolved 
to restrain his nocturnal wanderings, but for several successive 
evenings thereafter he succeeded, by watching his opportunity, 
in slipping out as some one entered the back door. Increased 
vigilance at last prevented this, and after all the household were 
in, Gelert found a bone, he had himself probably left in an outer 
room, which he took into the kitchen and there began to gnaw it. 
The cook did not usually permit this, but on this occasion re- 
frained from driving him out, and he, against all law and prece- 
dent, with the bone in his mouth, made his way into the parlor, 
and there went round holding it up to each person in turn. 
Gelert had evidently devised a plan similar to that which Walter 
Scott, in his " Quentin Durward," ascribes to the Bohemian 
Hayraddin, who by persistent indecorous conduct contrived to 
get himself turned out of the convent of Namur. 

My sisters had a vigorous and very intelligent horse that they 
drove for many years. He was much petted and allowed, in 
their rambles, to largely exercise his own discretion. If he saw 
one of his favorite thistles by the roadside he would turn aside 
to crop it. He was usually very discreet, but after he got into 
his dotage and was retired from service on his rations, he became 
somewhat coltish and mischievous. In good weather he was gen- 
erally at large, and on several occasions tried to entice the fac- 
tory team to run away, by going near them as they stood in har- 
ness and turning and running in a frolicsome way in front of 
them. In this he was not wholly unsuccessful. 

He would untie his halter. I do not think he comprehended 
the intricacies of the knot, but that he dealt with it as a man 
does with a tangled skein, the convolutions of which he cannot 
trace ; i. e., he shook it, and pulled at it in divers ways, till he 
found a part that would yield and draw out. Tom would thus 
often get out of the stable, and when some one attempted to 



842 NOTES. 

teach him, he would playfully let him get near and then spring 
away and repeat the operation. On one occasion he was near 
being caught, in consequence of treading an his loose halter, but 
he presently seized the farther end of it in his teeth, threw up 
his head with a triumphant air, and trotted off. 

I had a horse (Charlie) of the Morgan breed, which is noted 
for intelligence. I very frequently drove him to one of my 
mills, about twelve miles from my home, generally going over a 
long and very steep hill, but sometimes going around it. On 
one occasion I had, as was my custom, got out of the carriage 
at the foot of the hill to walk up it, but lingered behind to pluck 
some wild grapes. Charlie had got some distance ahead, when 
he came to the fork where the road around the hill diverged. 
I saw he hesitated a moment, and then with a very decided step 
took the road around. I called out Charlie ! and he immediately 
turned and went through the intervening bushes to the direct 
road, though in doing so he had now to go up a very steep ascent, 
with no path, and up which he had never before been. He not 
only rationally interpreted my calling to him, but correctly esti- 
mated the relative positions of the two roads, and the mode of 
getting from one to the other, in which he had no experience, 
and neither this nor the significance of my calling are in the 
province of instinct. 

On anotlier occasion, in driving Charlie, I took an apple from 
my pocket, bit it, and not finding it to my taste, cast it aside. 
Just then Charlie came to a hill, slackened his pace and stopped, 
as he often did, to see if I would get out and walk up it. The 
ascent was so gradual that I deemed his suggestion unreasonable, 
and said " Go on, Charlie," when he turned his face toward me, 
and made such an unmistakable movement of his lips, that I got 
out and went back a few steps to get the apple for him. 

My youngest brother, Joseph, had a short-haired Newfound- 
land dog, named Argus, which he trained with care, and it be- 
came an excellent retriever. I sometimes got him to take the 
bridle in his mouth and lead a saddle-horse from the mill to my 
father's house, nearly a mile distant. 

In the course of his training, my brother, walking by a brook, 
directed the dog to bring a speckled turtle that he saw in the 
grass. This was so repulsive that my brother was obliged to 



NOTES. 343 

place it in the dog's moutli, but he soon dropped it, and this pro- 
cess was repeated with similar result, until Argus swam across 
the stream and dropped the turtle on the other side, out of my 
brother's reach. 

On one occasion my brother dropped his knife in a large 
pasture, and after walking on about a quarter of a mile, sent 
Argus back to find it. He soon returned, but brought nothing, 
and was again sent back with the same result. In a third effort 
he was gone a long time ; but at last returning in high glee, my 
brother felt sure he had been successful, and was much surprised 
when the dog laid a mass of earth at his feet, in which was a 
cigar stump my brother had cast aside on the way. The dog 
had enveloped the cigar stump with earth, and so protected 
brought it in his mouth. 

In these cases, and especially in the cases of Gelert with his 
bone, and of Argus with the tobacco, there was a marked devis- 
ing of a plan of action adapted to new conditions, to meet new 
exigencies, and this, if my analysis is correct, is the especial 
characteristic of rational, as distinguished from instinctive ac- 
tion. 

I have spoken of the impossibility of our learning to move our 
muscles by effort ; and actions which we readily perform instinc- 
tively might bother or puzzle us to do by the logical or ideal 
processes. 

A fast trotting horse, if he attempted to move his four feet by 
premeditation of the successive movements of them, would prob- 
ably move very slowly and only walk, or be confused and stum- 
ble. The difficulty would increase with the number of feet. 
" The centipede was happy quite, 
Until a toad, in fun, 
Said, pray which leg must follow which ? 
That work'd her mind to such a pitch, 
She lay distracted in a ditch. 
Considering how to run." 

Most men, I think, if they attempted to make some of the 
muscular movements, e. g. of the eye, by rational investigation 
of the mode, would find themselves in a similar predicament. 

The same thing occurs in regard to our habitual actions, and 
especially as to those for which we have acquired the mode by 
mere memory, without the aid of the reasoning faculties. We 



344 NOTES. 

can, e. g., often write a word offhand correctly, when, if we de- 
liberate, we are bothered, and some other way of spelling it 
seems just as reasonable and as likely to be right. 

Note VII. 

There are cases in which, knowing the circumstances, we may 
be morally certain what a man's volition will be. A starving 
man will eat if he can, A man will try to escape from a burning 
house in which he is about to be enveloped in the flames. It is 
said that horses will not do this, but, when in danger of being 
burned, persistently resist being taken from their stalls, and will 
even run back to them after having been gotten out of danger. 

An incident of my childhood may illustrate this action of the 
horse, which cannot be classed with the instinctive. 

Before I was five years old I had crossed the street from my 
father's house with a cousin, a little girl of my own age, and 
seeing a horse and carriage coming very rapidly towards us, I 
impulsively ran back towards our house, and called to my cousin 
to do so. The result was that I got over safely, but my cousin 
was knocked down by the horse, and that she escaped instant 
death and without even serious injury, was deemed miraculous. 
The incident made a deep impression upon me, and I have always 
remembered that I thus acted because I thought we would be 
safe only on the side of the street on which we lived. On former 
similar occasions I had found that I was there in no danger, but 
had no experience as to the other side. The horse, probably by 
association, feels safest in his stall. 

Note VIII. 

That in a strictly logical process we do not always perceive a 
result in advance of the expression for it, is illustrated by an 
incident of my boyhood, and which, at the time (spring of 1819), 
I had no idea had any metaphysical significance. I knew that 
the top of a carriage-wheel moved faster than the bottom, and it 
occurred to me to ascertain the ratio. My thoughts almost 
immediately took this form. Suppose the carriage is going at 
the rate of ten miles per hour, then the velocity of the periphery 
of the wheel round its axis is ten miles per hour, and the bottom 
point, moving in the direction of the tangent, is (by this motion 
round its axis) moving backward at the rate of ten miles an hour, 
while at the same time, by the moving of the whole carriage, it 



NOTES. 345 

is carried forward ten miles per hour. Here are two motious 
equal and opposite, and of course there is no motion at all. I 
was astonished. There was obviously no mistake in the reason- 
ing, and yet the result seemed as obviously false. My confidence 
in such reasoning was not less than in the stability of the law^ of 
gravitation, and if I had seen the rocks about me suddenly move 
upward, I could not have been more confounded. The relations 
among the terms had forced me to a conclusion, which I not only 
had not perceived in advance, but did not believe when I reached 
it. A little further investigation, however, satisfied me that the 
conclusion was correct, and enabled me to prove and illustrate it 
in various ways. I have had much amusement in discussing this 
problem, having very generally found other persons as much 
astonished at the result as I had been. 

It is a curious fact that people equally confident that the 
bottom point does move, differ as to whether it moves backward 
or forward. One evening an acquaintance of mine, then recently 
converted, got into a warm discussion with some passengers in a 
Southwestern steamer. They all asserted that the bottom point 
did move, and some of them, in terms more forcible than urbane, 
expressed the opinion that only a fool would think it did not. 
I was within hearing, and being called upon by my friend went 
to his aid, and said to his excited opponents, "You say the 
bottom does move ? " They promptly answered yes, but some 
of them added, ** or how could it go round on the axle ? " while 
others said, " or how could it keep up with the carriage ? " This 
indicated diversity in their views. I then said, " Pray tell me 
which way it moves, backward or forward ? " This divided 
them into two very nearly equal parties, each finally insisting 
that the others were bigger fools than those who said it did not 
move at all. My friend and myself soon left them, but the next 
morning we found some of them still wrangling, and that they 
had several times during the night examined some of the wheels 
of the engine, the movement of which, each party claimed, prac- 
tically sustained their position. Though not germane to the 
present inquiry, I will add that the simple fact is, that the whole 
wheel is revolving about its bottom point as a centre. The 
velocity of each point and its direction are easily ascertained. 
The centre or axis of the wheel, of course, goes forward just as 
fast as the carriage ; the bottom not moving at all, the top of 
the wheel moves just twice as fast as the carriage. Every point 



843 NOTES. 

in the ascending side of the periphery moves directly towards 
what at the instant is the top of the wheel, and every point on 
the descending side directly from it. The first tendency to 
motion of the bottom point is directly up, ^. e., its direction at 
its start from the bottom point is perpendicular ; though like 
every other point its velocity and direction are not the same for 
any time, still the first infinitesimal motion of the bottom point 
is infinitesimally near to the perpendicular. 

Note IX. 

The important function of language as the instrument of logic 
indicates the importance of a thorough knowledge and mastery 
of all its resources to enable one nicely to discriminate and adapt 
it as nearly as possible to the finer distinctions and shades of 
thought which exist in the primitive perceptions of things and 
ideas, and the delicately varied relations among them, for which, 
in the logical processes, verbal symbols are substituted. 

This consideration gives additional significance to the much 
mooted question as to the value of linguistic studies, and con- 
tributes an additional argument in their favor. In regard to a 
composite language, formed as ours has been, it seems obvious 
that without a liberal acquaintance with those languages from 
which it has been largely derived and in which it has its roots, 
the knowledge of our own tongue must be very imperfect. Such 
acquaintance with the sources of our language must have its 
advantages not only in the all-important respects of greater 
accuracy in the meaning of the terms, and nicer precision, dis- 
crimination, and clearness in their use, upon which the soundness 
of our logical conclusions is so dependent, but also in the greater 
facility and celerity in the mental processes by the aid thus 
afforded to the memory, the knowledge of a single root or trunk 
immediately suggesting the numerous branches which spring 
from it. 

The want of such knowledge is perhaps even more felt in stat- 
ing the results of the logical processes than in their acquisition. 
In thinking, if at a loss for the proper word, we can for the 
moment use the mental perception instead ; and if in writing we 
adopted the analogous plan, we should insert a picture of the 
thing instead of the name of it, as is often done in children's 
books. 

The writer is unable to supplement these a priori conclusions 



NOTES. 347 

witli any affirmative experience, and can only say that in using 
language as an instrument of thought, or for expressing its 
results, he has felt that he was under disadvantages both as to 
precision and facility which a fuller knowledge of languages, 
and especially of their genetic elements, would have obviated. 

I have spoken of the resolution of algebraic equations as fur- 
nishing the purest type of verbal reasoning. For these a special 
language has been devised, so flexible that it can be readily and 
accurately fitted to each particular case. 

But the relative advantages of different systems of language, 
or of other symbols for ideas, is more conspicuous in the greater 
ease with which we deal even with simple arithmetical problems 
by means of the Arabic system of notation as compared with the 
Roman. More extended and intricate calculations, easily accom- 
plished with the former, seem almost impracticable with the 
latter. 

Those who insist most strongly on the supremacy of the logical 
processes seem most prone to question the utility of the linguistic 
studies which, in the views I have presented, appear to be most 
important aids to these same processes. 

Note X. 

There is, then, in the attributes of instinct and reason, no gen- 
eric difference between man and brutes. They are common to 
both, varying only in degree. The ratio of the instinctive to the 
rational is so much greater in brutes, that it is generally regarded 
as surpassing that of man. The three fundamental elements of 
mind, knowledge, feeling, and volition, are also common to both. 
Brutes have less knowledge, and hence the sphere of their vol- 
untary action is more limited ; but I see no reason to suppose 
that within this sphere there is any limit in the will itself — any 
bound to their volitional ability to make effort. The limit in 
them, as in the higher orders of intelligent being, is always in 
the knowledge of a mode of action to reach the end desired, and 
not in the will. Nor is there any reason to suppose that the 
bodily senses are not the same in kind in man and brutes, and, 
in fact, each of these may be found more acute and perfect in 
some one or more of the latter. The reverse seems to be gen- 
erally true of the mental emotions. To this, fear seems a notable 
exception, and perhaps surprise, though it is less marked. But 
brutes also evince affection, hatred, revenge ; they are elated by 



348 NOTES. 

successful achievement, and depressed by failure ; they have 
emulation, and manifest pride in victory and shame in defeat. 
There is warrant for asserting that they contemplate beauty and 
deformity with different emotions ; but this is in a very limited 
sphere, and it is doubtful if they recognize the antithesis, or even 
the difference, between the sublime and the ridiculous. If this 
is the limit of their most elevated thought, we may reasonably 
assume that they never rise to the contemplation or the concep- 
tion of the grandeur of action from an internal personal convic- 
tion of duty, and that it is the addition of the moral sense that 
makes the generic distinction, and elevates man above the rest 
of the animal creation. 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 



CAUSATION AND FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

LETTER I. — CAUSATION. 

Mr. Mill's positions and arg-uments. — Imply that change may 
take place without power. — If " invariability of sequence ' ' is 
the only relation, philosophy is reduced to the observation and 
memory of the order of succession 1-4 

Origin of our notion of Cause. — Sir William Hamilton's answer 
to the doctrine that we get it from our acts of Will. — His 
argument does not touch that theory ; much less does it dis- 
turb my positions. — The notion cannot be acquired by outward 
observation or internal experience. — Prior to this the knowl- 
edge of the mode of effort must exist, and also the " prophetic 
anticipation" of effect, which Mill, Hamilton, and Mansel 
agree in rejecting. — The notion must be innate. — This con- 
firmed by the phenomena of instinct. — Not essential to our 
notion of Cause to know all the intermediate steps from its first 
action to its final effect. — Possible that we have been conscious 
of the intermediate effects between effort and muscular move- 
ment 4-11 

What is our notion of Cause ? Ability to do something — power 
to do — to change what is to what, as yet, is not. — Not essen- 
tial to the idea to know that we can extend the effects of effort 
beyond our muscles, or beyond the moment. — This may be 
added by experience. — The notion does not reach the essence 
of Power or Cause, but still is useful in the study of phenom- 
ena, and in finding what has power, and under what conditions 
it is manifested. — Comte ignores causal power, but admits 
that it was originally predicated of spirit power .... 11-12 

What is Cause ? Has the notion we derive from conscious efforts 
and anticipated effects been properly superseded ? Sir Wil- 
liam Hamilton, unexpectedly against me as to the origin, and 
as to the idea itself, has not found the battlefield. — His 



350 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

theory merely asserts that he cannot conceive that Cause has 
made something out of nothing. — Cause that which produces 
change. — Mr. Mill speaks of effects which certain causes are 
fitted to produce. — Why is one thing better fitted than another 
to invariably precede any event ? — Cause always the correla- 
tive to effect, and is power in successful action. — Our notion 
both of Power and Cause derived from an innate knowledge of 
effort and its anticipated effect ; but we can only know our 
ability to cause any specific effect by experiment .... 12-16 

Cause implies effect, and effect implies change, — To say that for 
every effect there must be a cause, is to say that for every 
change there must be motion or activity. — If that which 
changes is self -active, we do not look beyond it for the Cause ; 
but otherwise we seek to connect it with a self-active Cause. — 
Intelligent being the only self -active Causa known to us. — Ex- 
perience leads us (properly or not) to regard matter in motion 
as a Cause, but not a self -active Cause. — If the motion of mat- 
ter had a beginning, it must be referred to the action of intel- 
ligent being, and is thus rather an instrument by which such 
being extends its effects in time and space. - Uniformity in the 
action of matter, and also of spirit, enabling us to anticipate 
the future. — Our knowledge of pov/er by effort more conclu- 
sive than of that by matter in motion. — Effort is itself the act 
of power. — All effort is either to gain knoAvledge or move our 
muscles. — Only to mind in action, and to matter in motion, 
we attribute Causative power. — Matter has no power of selec- 
tion. — Matter cannot begin chanore. — Matter i.ot necessary to 
extend the effects of intelligent effort ...... 16-25 

The effect must be simultaneous v^^.th the action of its cause. — 
Must wholly result from causes in action at the time it occurs. 
— R3asons why the notion that Cause must precede its effect 
has obtained 25-29 

Mr. Mill's \iews and definitions of Cause, viz., ''The real cause 
is the whole of the antecedents," or the assemblage of phe- 
nomena which invariably precedes the effect. — These formulas 
indicate a mode of finding what are causes, but do not define 
them. — They do not distinguish causes from mere passive con- 
ditions. — Under them darkness must be a Cause in the change 
from darkness to light. — That paople differ as to which of the 
antecedents is the Cause, is no ground for inferring that all of 
them are causes. — Inexpedient to confound in the one word 
Cause the passive conditions which resist change with the ac- 
tive agency which chang-es them. — All the cases of Causation 
stated by Mr. Mill properly referable, either to mind in action 
or matter in motion 29-36 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 351 

Substitutes for our notion of Cause as derived from intellig-ent 
effort. — 1. Generalized Phenomena, as Gravitation. - 2. The 
phenomena themselves fixed or flowing-. — 3, Uniform succes- 
sion, or Uniformity itself. — Under first head causal power 
sometimes assumed to be in tlie name, sometimes in the facts 
named, and sometimes attributed to a mere hypothetical pover 
indicated by or embodied in them. — No Causal power in the 
mere names. — To predicate it of the generalized facts would 
make them collectively the cause of themselves individually, 
involving" the existence of the collection prior to that of the in- 
dividuals of which it is composed, — The hypothesis of an un- 
known power has its types in the ancient mythology, and in the 
rude notion of our Indian tribes. — Science has its manitous. — 
Mere hypothesis cannot properly supersede our innate knowl- 
edge of power by effort, or even of our empirical knowledge of 
power by naatter in motion. — The ancient Divinities and the 
Indian Manitous w^ere spirit causes, the manitous of science are 
often material ; have these their primitive type in Fetichism ? 36-39 

Second substitute. — The phenomena themselves, — Mr. Mill re- 
gards these as more properly causes, and includes as '^ perma- 
nent causes " both " objects " and " events," — Also holds that 
*' the real cause is the whole antecedents," We agree tliat the 
law of uniformity applies to all unintelligent Cause. — The 
whole antecedents are the same at every point of space, and 
hence the effects should be the same, — The whole past being 
everywhere the same, and acting- upon a void and therefore 
homogeneous future, the effect should everywhere be the 
same. — If the whole past, as a causal power, produces an 
effect, then this effect is added to the aggregate cause, and 
the same causes can never act again. — If it is insufficient, and 
produces no effect, then, there being no change, it can, under 
the rule of uniformity, only repeat its insufficient action, and 
there would be an end of change, — Failure of effect cannot be 
such a new event as of itself to add a new element and make 
the insufficient Cause a different and sufficient Cause, unless 
the Cause is intelligent. — The ' ' whole prior state ' ' never 
can occur again, and no case of the uniformity of Causation can 
arise. — The hypothesis that the '* order of succession" is in 
separate fibres avoids some, but not all of the difficulties. — 
It also necessitates a plurality of causes from the origin of ex- 

^ istence. — This violates the law of Parsimony 39-48 

Fixed existences cannot be the cause of any subsequent change. — 
If Cause in virtue of mere existence, they would change them- 
selves at the instant of coming into existence, and never could 



362 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

become fixed. — The Cause cannot be completed by some new 
phenomenon. — Fixed or stable events being- excluded, Cause 
can only be mind in action and matter in motion. — Permanent 
material existences cannot act in conformity to law . . . 48-51 
Third substitute, first divi&ion of it. — No Causal power, etc. — 
This idea a result of physical science. — Attributing Causal 
power to observed uniformity common to every stage of empiri- 
cal knowledge. — If no Causal power ^ all events would spring 
into existence spontaneously and contingently, without order or 
adaptation. — Nothing to conform things to order by a benefi- 
cent design. — Material effects and their uniformity depend on 
some power of matter in motion. — There must be some power 
to produce the observed uniformity. — To meet this necessity 
it is asserted that the power or cause inheres to the uniformity 
itself. — But the things to be accounted for are the events and 
the uniformity of their succession. — Under this hypothesis a 
thing is said to succeed another because it always does so. — 
This phrase now superseding the generic names of phenomena. 

— Both traceable to uniformity, and both making the collective 
events the causes of themselves individually 51-54 

The ideas of Cause and of uniformity are essentially distinct and 
different. — Nor is succession a necessary element of our idea 
of Cause. — It is complete without the knowledge of its effect. 

— The succession comes after the Cause, and makes no part of 
it. — It is only the evidence that Cause has existed. Succession 
is the effect, and to make it Cause is to make it the Cause of 
itself. — All theories of Causation must bring us to something 
already active, or that has the ability to become so. — In my 
view, spirit Cause cannot be dispensed with — must always have 
existed. — Lapse even of infinite time does not preclude our 
speculating on the primordial conditions of existence. — Our 
interest in the study of the succession of events not lessened by 
its being distinct from Causation. Our knowledge of the uni- 
formity of succession important only because we have power to 
act upon the future. — Except in regard to instinctive action, 
it is because of the uniformity in the effects of effort that we 
can know how to influence the future ; this uniformity may be 
an occult necessity, but this does not affect our freedom in 
making the effort 54-59 

APPENDIX TO LETTER I. 

Correspondence with Professor Rood on the common belief that 
the sun cannot be seen till about 8' after it is on the visible 
horizon . 60-62 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 353 



LETTER II. — FREEDOM IN WILLING. 

Subject stated 63 

Definitions of Freedom and of Will restated 63 

Necessity. — Its various meanings. — Associated with compulsion 
as its antecedent, and with invariability as its consequent. — 
Free action may be as invariable as coerced action. — Only 
when Necessity implies compulsion that it is opposed to Free- 
dom 64-67 

Intelligent effort a beginning of the exercise of powder, and not 
an effect of some previously exerted power. — The being that 
wills is a power, and not merely an instrument through which 
power is transmitted. — Interdependence arising from each 
varying the conditions for others, and also changing their knowl- 
edge and wants. — This does not interfere with their free- 
dom. — Positions in support of these views stated . . . 67-72 

The issue as to the control of volition by previous conditions. — 
Illustrations from naatter in motion all fail at the point of 
effort, to which there is no known similitude 72-76 

Mr. Mill's arguments embraced under the following heads : — 
1 The argument from cause and effect, or that volition is a 
necessary effect of its antecedents. 

2. The influence of present external conditions. 

3. The influence of internal phenomena, including the char- 

acter, knowledge, habits, and wants of the being that 
wills. 

4. The argument from prescience, or possibility of prediction. 

Motive is embraced in both the second and third 

categories 76-77 

The arguments should rest upon the phenomena of voluntary 
action, some of which are here stated. — All effort is made to 
vary the future. — The agent must have a conception of what 
the future will be without his effort, and also what with his 
effort. — The former a primary, the latter a secondary expecta- 
tion. — Freedom not dependent on the success of the effort. — 
Actor considered as a sole agent of change, and also as acting 
in conjunction with other causes. — Universal passivity. — 
Difficulty of conceiving absolute commencement of action. — 
Note on Sir Wm. Hamilton's idea of Causation. — The Avant 
of variety or of activity may be a ground for beginning action. 
— Apparent similarity of the conditions of the beginning of ma- 
terial movement and of mental action. — Differences in the 
actual phenomena. — Intelligence free to begin action whenever 



354 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

it perceives a reason for it. — Hypothesis of universal passivity 
foreign to experience. — The more practical questions are, 
Can intelligent conative being, passive among changing events, 
of itself begin action ? Is his effort detarmined by the cur- 
rent of events, or by himself ? Freedom in willing does not 

involve power to do what we will 77-86 

Examination of the first of the four arguments or categories. 

— The question as to the mind's ability to begin action cov- 
ers the same ground. The necessitarian argument that 
mind before it can act must be first acted upon by some causa- 
tive agency in the past, is applied to all these categories. — 
Some positions bearing on them all. — Our knowledge of the 
past has no more Causative power than that of the future. — 
The only conceivable modes in which causative powers of the 
past can reach the present, are by means of matter in motion 
or of intelligent action. — These really present active powers. 

— Conceivable that the past may influence present action of 
these causes by changes it has wrought in the conditions to 
be acted upon, or in the characteristics of the power that acts 
upon them. — Argument from cause and effect. — Object of 
volition is to interfere with and change its uniformity. — Uni- 
formity suggests necessity, but in fact aids us to vary the fu- 
ture. — The argument only proves that the Will is unf ree, not 
that the mind is. — Necessitarians enforce and illustrate this 
argument from cause and effect by the phenomena of matter 
in motion ; as well illustrate the phenomena of material mo- 
tion by that of mental efPort. — They resemble each other not 
in themselves, but only in this, they both produce effects. — 
Mind alone makes effort. — In its effort it has two distinct ob- 
jects, external change, and increase of its own knowledge. — 
To produce external change, including that in the knowledge 
or action of others, we always begin by moving our own mus- 
cles — To increase our knowledge, we often begin and end with 
mental effort. — Phrases * ' muscular effort ' ' and *' mental 
effort" do not imply difference in the actor, but in the subject 
or object of his action — Further analogies and differences be- 
tween matter in motion and mind in effort 86-97 

All the arguments against freedom under the first three heads 
assert or assume that to act, mind must be first acted upon. — 
Experience against this. — Our ability to start from a universal 
passivity at least doubtful 97-99 

The more practical question is. Can the individual, himself pas- 
sive, in the midst of changing conditions, of himself begin ac- 
tion ? Action, whether upon fixed or flowing conditions, based 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS, 355 

upon expectation ; and any chang-e in this is a change in our 
knowledge. — Change from a passive to an active state attested 
by experience and observation. — Beginning- of effort as marked 
as beginning of sensation. — Necessitarian argument from cause 
and effect asserts that volitions do begin to be. — Same arg-u- 
ment makes the whole destiny of the being depend upon the 
time and place at which it was dropped into the current of 
events. — These questions ultimately rest on consciousness. — 
Its dicta cannot be urg-ed as proof even that we make effort, 
much less as proof that effort is free or unfree. — Mr. Mill's 
objections to such proof by Sir Wm. Hamilton too broadly 
stated. — In willing we have a prophetic anticipation of the 
effect, and the knowledge of the mode of moving the muscles 
must be innate 99-103 

Does freedom require that we should be able to will the con- 
trary ? The case supposed by Mr. Mill " to murder" or " not 
to murder," raises the question, not of freedom, but of char- 
acter. — The notion that ability to do the contrary is essential 
to freedom reached through a logical error. — Such ability 
would indicate the reverse of freedom. — What is meant by 
ability to will the contrary ? — The position reducible to the 
absurdity that one is not free because he cannot be otherwise 
than free 103-106 

Returns to the question of our ability to begin action. — Hy- 
pothesis of action by one suddenly transferred to an unknown 
forest. — No difficulty in conceiving a beginning of action in 
each individual, nor of the beginning of each particular action. 
— In this misled by the analogies of material phenomena 106-107 

Effort of a conative intelligence requires no prior application of 
power. — It is isolated from the past. — No consequence when 
the conditions commenced, nor whether they ever had any com- 
mencement. — Experience in the supposed cases of action at 
the instant of the creation of the active being, or of the condi- 
tions. — On every occasion for action there is some change, 
making as an entirety a new creation commencing at the in- 
stant. — No power in the quiescent phenomena, nor in our 
perception of them — Advocates of Causative power in the 
past cannot object to the hypothesis of non-action of such^ 
causes 107-111 

Instinctive action the same as if all the elements were created 
at the instant. — Volition does not require that the active being, 
or the conditions, should have had a past existence. — Nor 
does it matter by what power or cause the conditions are 
brought about. — Influence of our knowledge of past causes 



356 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS, 

considered. — The whole past, so far as it relates to action, 
has culminated in this knowledge. — Not material to the active 
agent what other, or whether any other causes are producing 
change. — Power to begin action the peculiar attribute of 
conative intelligence. — Note on Sir Wm. Hamilton's not recog- 
nizing a power to begin action 112-116 

This beginning of action by the mind the thing now to be ac- 
counted for. — Unfortunate use of the word Cause to designate 
compulsory power, and also the perception of future results, 
which is a reason for effort. — It is through matter in motion 
that we seek to connect change, in that which cannot change 
itself, with a self -active power. — Having done this, we look 
no farther for the power, but may still inquire how it came to 
exist, and under what conditions it exists and produces effects. 
— The past can only indirectly affect the mind's action by 
having changed the mind itself, or the conditions upon which 
it acts 116-120 

In the conditions (internal and external) you find the power or 
influence which determines the mind to determine. — This word 
influence produces confusion and underlies much fallacy. — Like 
cause, it is applied to power, and also to the perceptions of a 
reason. — Perception of a reason, being a form of knowledge, 
belongs to our third category, leaving us in the second to con- 
sider only the power of external conditions 120-121 

Second category, or influence of the external conditions. — Diffi- 
culty of conceiving of any mode in which these can act the will, 
or control the mind in its acting. — The argument must be 
general, and assert that the mere existence of conditions of any 
kind excludes freedom, and these conditions being always pre- 
requisites of effort, effort is always controlled by them. — More 
reasonable to attribute volition to the active being than to the 
passive conditions. — Otherwise the power to act upon and 
change is attributed to the passive subject which is to be acted 
upon and changed. — That the being wants change in the con- 
ditions does not imply that these conditions have any power to ; 
change themselves mediately through his action, any more than 
that they can directly act upon and change themselves without 
his agency. — Fi'om confounding reason with cause, and the con- 
ditions with the perceptions of them, the conditions come to be 
regarded as the causes instead of the subjects of effort. — The 
conditions are necessary to effort as passive subjects, but not as 
the active agents. — External conditions do not act the will. — 
This would imply that the Will is a distinct entity to be acted 
upon 121-124 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 357 

To suppose that volition in one mind is produced by the action of 
another, involves all the difficulties of self -originated action, 
and some others in addition. — We always seek to vary effort 
in another, indirectly, by changing his knowledge. — This we 
always do by changing the external conditions ; but these con- 
ditions or changes, and the mind's perception of them, are two 
entirely distinct and different things. — Causative powers in the 
past may have made the present conditions. — But the nature 
of these conditions, or any differences in them, do not effect 
freedom. — The conative intelligence, whether acting as sole 
cause or in connection with others, acts upon its expectations of 
the future. — It makes no difference whether the uniformity in 
material phenomena arises from the necessary action of blind 
forces, or from the free action of a supremely wise intelligence 
which does not vary from the wisest mode. — Argument for 
control by the conditions is founded on the assumption that the 
volition varies with, and conforms to, the conditions. — If true, 
control could not be properly inferred from this assumption. — 
But effort is in fact conformed, not to the conditions, but to the 
mind's perception of a mode of acting upon them . . . 124-129 

(Third Category.) Necessitarians affirm that the volitions must 
be in accordance with the " dispositions, desires, aversions, and 
habits, combined with outward circumstances." — That they 
follow " moral antecedents as certainly as physical effects fol- 
low their physical causes," and hence argue that they are not 
free. — It is our knowledge or view of the outward circum- 
stances which affects our determinations — The moral antece- 
dents are merely characteristics which make the being what it 
is, and distinguish it from what it is not, and any influence of 
the character is that of the being thus constituted. — Character 
made in the past. — Doctrine of freedom does not assert that 
the mind makes the conditions (external or internal), but only 
that in view of them it determines its own effort — If he has 
before changed his own character, he may do it now, and so far 
change and determine the action which conforms to it. — The 
process by which we determine effort is the same as that by 
which we change our characters, and hence the two may be 
simultaneous. — The instantaneous exercise of a new power 
breaking the chain of past causation is the peculiar attribute of 
conative intelligent being. — But if his character never chang ed, 
or even if changed every instant, and by some extrinsic power, 
he might still act freely. — To change the action of others, we 
seek to change either their knowledge or the conditions to be 
acted upon. — Types of these two modes. — But we agree that 



358 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

we can change our own characters. — My positions give a 
broader significance to your statements on this point. — But to 
answer the Owenites requires the admission that we can act 
without being first acted upon. — Otherwise we are placed in a 
current of events in which we have no control of our destiny. — 
We do not float, but swim. — Does the current cause the swim- 
ming ? — Relation of punishment to freedom and necessity 129-137 
The hypothesis of necessary succession involves the doctrine of 
election and reprobation. — Means of changing our own charac- 
ters. — The doctrine of necessary succession also involves that' 
of a multiplicity of causes in the commencement and through 
the whole series. — This applies to the formation of character. 

— But having the attributes of self -activity, it is not material 
to freedom what the other characteristics are, nor how acquired. 

— A demon is as free as an angel 137-141 

That the act of a virtuous person is virtuous, indicates freedom ; 

if it were vicious, this would indicate the absence of self-con- 
trol. — The necessitarian argument is general, asserting that as 
volition must conform to the character, it is controlled by it. — 
This assumes that the character is distinct from, and extrinsic 
to, the willing being. — Even admitting this, the inference of 
necessity is not legitimate. — Conformity of acts to character 
indicates freedom. — Taking intention into account, there can 
be no discrepancy between them. — Proving the necessary 
conformity only affirms the truism that the thing is of necessity 
equal to and like itself, and that the action of the being will be 
a manifestation of its own character, and not that of another. 

— Such conformity indicates self-control or freedom . . 141-144 
The influence of the particular elements of character, as disposi- 
tions, habits, etc., examined in detail. — " Disposition " some- 
times means present inclination, and sometimes a fixed general 
character. — Character may change at the instant of action, 
and, hence, though action always conforms to the character 

at the instant, there is not always a general or habitual disposi- 
tion to which it conforms. — Dispositions, inclinations, desires, 
etc., but modifications of want. — They often suggest the ob- 
jects of eifort, from which we select by a preliminary examina- 
tion. — This examination is always an effort to increase our 
knowledge, and find what, under the existing conditions, will 
suit us best. — The particular inclination or disposition of the 
occasion more obviously liable to be changed, in this process, 
than the general character. — The object of the examination 
often is to test the expediency of such change. — Conflicting in- 
clinations, desires, etc., among which we must choose. — Not 



ANALYSIS OF COyTENTS. 359 

till they have culminated in choice to try to do, that they are 
related to action ; and this choice, being- the knowledge that 
one effort suits us better than othei's, is a relation of knowl- 
edge to action. — By knowledge the questions as to effort .and 
non-effort, and as to what efforts, are decided. — That the pres- 
ent action is as the present inclination, not only indicates free- 
dom, but is essential to its manifestation. — Neeessitarieais as- 
sert, that as the volition must conform to the disposition, etc., 
the willing being is controlled by this necessity, and hence not 
free. — This conformity to choice is the especial chariictcristic 
of freedom, and some logical entanglement is required before 
there can be any difficulty to explain. — The argument asserts 
that freedom is not free because it is constrained to be free 144-148 

Term habit always applied to the general or formed character — 
In habitual actions we adopt modes previously discovered, sav- 
ing the labor of the preliminary examination. — Habit not a 
mysterious power compelling action, but only a name for a par- 
ticular phase of the general relation of knowledge to action. — 
As well attribute such compulsion to ' ' customary " or ' ' imita- 
tive ' ' actions. — The reasons against making other character- 
istics distinct entities controlling volition, apply also to habit, 
and, in addition, habit is a product of repeated action ; and, 
hence, such action cannot primarily be produced by habit. — 
Conformity of action to disposition, desire, etc., is but conform- 
ity to the being's own vieAV, and the position of Necessitarians 
is here against themselves 148-151 

Influence of Motive. — Vicious circle. — Sir Wm. Hamilton's 
reply to Reid, suggesting that the cause of the act be called 
motive. — He seeks what is self -contradictory, a being acting 
freely, and yet not controlling its action. — Mind does not act 
contingently, but always on the perception of an inducement. — 
No objection to calling this inducement a motive, but important 
to examine this motive before deciding that it conflicts with 
freedom — Mr. Mill calls moral antecedents motives, and 
makes "desires and aversions" prominent. — These are not 
entities having power, but states of the mind in which it still 
controls its own action. — Desire or want does not produce ac- 
tion, but is one of the passive conditions to which the mind 
adapts its action — Motive is always the mind's expectation 
of future effect, and this is knowledge 151-154 

All the relations of the conditions (intrinsic and extrinsic) to ac- 
tion are now shown to be concentrated in want and knowledge, 
bringing us to Mr. Mill's statement, as quoted in " Causation " 
(1st page). That statement of my positions, in the main, I 



S 



360 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

accept. — The invariable conformity of volition to want and 
knowledg-e, here admitted, does not favor necessity, nor militate 
against freedom. — I also assent to the essential facts there 
asserted. — Thus agreeing" in facts so nearly ultimate, there 
seems little room to differ, except as to the name of the result. 
— Reasons why I call it freedom. — It would be a queer sort of 
freedom in which a man would or could do, or try to do, what 
he did not want to do, or try to do. — The invariability in the 
ease is only that of the being^s effort to his own notion of the 
means of attaining the end — a necessity that free actions must 
be free 154-156 

The act must be so conformed by some cause or power. — The 
only essential elements in the case are the intelligent being 
with his knowledge, the effort he makes, and the conditions to 
be changed. — The question as to control by the conditions has 
already been disposed of. — Effort not an entity with power or 
knowledge. — Want and knowledge cannot want or know, or 
direct action. — To suppose the conformity is produced by an 
extrinsic intelligence, involves all the difficulties of self-action, 
and others still greater. — Such extrinsic agent must know the 
views of the actor, and also some mode of controlling his voli- 
tion. — No direct mode of doing this known or conceivable. — 
Can only be done by changing his knowledge, which, in the 
very process of conforming, changes that to which the act is 
to be conformed. — As we never attempt to make the act of 
another conform to his knowledge, this difficulty never practi- 
cally arises. — What we do attempt is to change the knowl- 
edge of another, so that his conforming act will be different. — 
The hypothesis of extrinsic control still involves the necessity 
of intrinsic, which it was intended to discard. ■ — The conformity 
by intrinsic control is consummated by the effort to do ; but by 
the extrinsic only when the effort is successful. — If these views 
do not prove the extrinsic hypothesis impossible, they show 
that it would be absurd to adopt it in preference to the intrin- 
sic 156-160 

It is the being that determines iii view of its want and knowledge ; 
and even if want and knowledge are extrinsic to the willing 
being, they are still but extrinsic conditions of action, and not * 
powers that act. — Want influential only as known, and in the 
last analysis volition depends only upon knowledge. — Knowl- 
edge induces effort only when it embraces some desirable change 
to be effected, and some mode of action to effect it. — No power 
in this prophetic knowledge to make an effort, or determine its 
direction 160-161 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS, 361 

It cannot be the past events which conform our acts to thenaseWes, 
or to anything" else, for when our recollection differs from the 
event, our actions are conformed to the recollections, and not to 
the events. — It may still be said that our knowledge or belief, 
right or wrong, is the product of the past. — Knowledge being 
a characteristic, the same reasoning which has been applied to 
the position that the character generally is formed in the past, 
will apply to it also. — It is not the past facts, nor the memory 
of them, but the ability which the being now has to direct its 
effort to a future result, that influences its action. — But the 
being is continually acting upon an aggregate of knowledge 
created at the instant, and which, as entireties, had no past. — 
All the distinguishing characteristics of intelligent being are 
essential elements of its freedom. — The illusion seems to be in 
attributing control to some portion of the being, then reasoning 
as though this portion were extrinsic to it, or as though control 
by the being, of its own action, were incompatible with its free- 
dom. — It is not any of these characteristics or states of the 
being, but the conative being of which they are characteristics 
or states, that feels, knows, and acts 161-163 

Not material to the question what theory we adopt as to the sub- 
stratum of matter or of spirit. — My argument is apparently 
strongest on the hypothesis that the being is constituted of its 
characteristics with no substratum. — But a substratum which 
was only a nucleus, adding no other characteristics to the com- 
bination, would, in reality, make no difference. — If the sub- 
stratum is a characteristic, then the being or thing is still but a 
combination of its characteristics, and exists only as such, in 
either case equally sustaining my position that control by the 
characteristics is control by the being. — Can a substratum be 
anything more than a characteristic of many individuals other- 
wise distinguished from each other ? — No argument can go 
back of the properties. — In some respects extension of matter 
most nearly conforms to our notion of a substratum . . 164-165 

From this point of difference, as to the relations of the charac- 
teristics to the being they characterize, our views diverge, and 
lead to very different conclusions. — Note in regard to Mr. 
IVIill's classing knowledge among the external motives . 166-167 

My object when replying to Edwards. — Questions then reserved, 
and now considered. — Our actions usually predicated upon our 
anticipation of what other causative agents will do. — In this 
we agree. — Does it conflict with my position that volition is 
causal action ? — Law of cause and effect at most only asserts 
that effects, not causes, are necessitated. — Or if volition is an 



362 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

effect, then the question which concerns the freedom of the 
being is, does he cause the volition ? — The analogy of any me- 
chanical causes and their effects might prove that volition, as 
a distinct entity or a mere effect, is not free, but not that its 
cause is not free. — We rely upon the uniformity of material 
phenomena. — When we see two solid bodies approaching each 
other, we know that some change must occur. — But no partic- 
ular change of necessity, or which we could know a priori. — 
Various results equally conceivable and possible. — We still 
want some directing power, blind or percipient, to determine 
among these possibles. — Note on argument from design. — 
The ground of prediction is uniformity, not necessity. - — Cause 
of the uniformity is not essential to foreknowledge, nor do we 
usually seek it for this object. — Uniformity in material changes 
may be but uniformity in the action of an intelligent cause of 
them. — Omniscience not liable to vary its plan, and if It di- 
rects Its own action we have additional means of predicting it. 
— The uniformity of material phenomena, or of cause and 
effect, indicates freedom. — Our volitions may be additions to 
God's knowledge, and reasons for varying His action. — All 
these variations may be embraced in a more extended uniform- 
ity. — In seeking the law of material uniformity we only seek 
the uniform modes of God's action. — A large material domain 
in which God acts as a Sole First Cause unvaried by change in 
His knowledge. — No reliable uniformity of human actions to 
external conditions. — More reliable as the ability to acquire 
knowledge lessens. — Wisdom does not aid one in predicting 
what the unwise will do. — Omniscience in this respect has no 
advantage. — We may foreknow such events as we can produce, 
but volition in others cannot be thus foreknown .... 167-175 

*' Possibility of Prediction." — Meaning of this Phrase. 

A being acting as sole cause might predict what he has power to 
produce. — But this case can never occur in regard to volition. — 
Mr. Mill's argument rests not on the degree of ease or of diffi- 
culty of prediction, but on the " possibility of prediction." — An 
argument founded on such possibility as cogent as if founded 
upon actual prediction, but then is in a vicious circle. — My 
position requires prescience of the volitions of others, but not 
infallible prescience. — We often err by mistaking what others 
will do. — Mr. Mill virtually asserts that we can attain cer- 
tainty when we know the antecedents. — This may be true if 
we know all the antecedents, including the being's last deter- 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 863 

minations. — We then know it because the being does itself 

determine its volitions, and is free 175-179 

Future volition cannot be known as an isolated fact, as an existing 
thing may. — If it could, this would destroy the presumption 
of necessary connection with its antecedents, and apply to free 
volitions as well as to unfree. — Such prescience would not indi- 
cate that the volition was not produced by the willing being, 
nor even that it did not produce itself. — The only *' possibility 
of prediction" rests on the mind's control of its own volition. 

— If predicted without knowing the mind's final determination, 
the connection with the prior antecedents is broken, and the 
prediction does not prove any connection of that which is pre- 
dicted with these antecedents. — Argument for necessity must 
then recede a step, and show that, by the antecedents, the 
mind is "determined to determine." — Doubt as to whether 
such determination can be predicted. — There may be two or 
more modes which will suit the actor equally well. — By arbi- 
trary decision among these, the chain of cause and effect is 
broken 179-181 

The mind's determination cannot be dependent on things and 
events extrinsic to it, for when its view differs from these, the 
determination conforms to the view. — Hence only as these 
things and events affect our knowledge that they affect our 
determination. — Can we so know the knowledge of the agent 
as to predict his determination ? — Volition always a new power 
thrown in, breaking the order which would otherwise obtain, 
and also that it may be a beginning of action, having no past, 
indicate that there is no necessary connection with past ante- 
cedents, or means of predicting from them. — The peculiar 
difficulty is, that the knowledge on which the determination 
depends is liable to be changed in the very process of deter- 
mining. — In instinctive, habitual, and customary actions, we do 
not seek new knowledge, and in these prediction is most reliable. 

— In all other cases we seek more knowledge for the purpose 
of determining, and thus, in the very act of determining, change 
the knowledge upon which the prediction of the determina- 
tion is based. — The possible changes in such cases are infinite. 

— The data in such cases are insufficient, and prediction im- 
possible. — To suppose that we can foreknow the result of the 
preliminary effort to determine begs the question, and also 
assumes the success of that effort, which is another very uncer- 
tain element. — This illustrated : A seeks to foreknow the de- 
termination of B. — Every attempt to do this must be through 
the knowledge of B, and assumes that B will conform his acts 



364 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

to his knowledge, whether freely or not makes no difference to 
the *' possibility of prediction." — The chain of connection of a 
future volition with present known conditions as easily fore- 
known if it is free as if necessitated 181-186 

Prediction oidy indicates uniformity, not necessity. — Hence ne- 
cessity cannot be inferred from prediction. — Freedom is an 
element of our expectation. — The difficulty of prediction least 
at the extremes of intelligence, because in these the liability 
to change of knowledge is least. — In all, some steadfastness 
in knowledge on which we rely. — Our power to influence an- 
other also a ground of prediction. — Illustrated by a move in 
chess, or otherwise changing the knowledge. — Faith in the 
future act of another is faith that he will perceive a reason for 
such act, and freely conform his action to it 186-190 

Admitting that that which can certainly be predicted must of ne- 
cessity come to pass, the question arises, is a Volition which is 
controlled by the willing agent less " possible of prediction " 
than one which is controlled by extrinsic power, or than one 
which he controls in another being ? — It cannot be urged that 
the volition is controlled by some power or force more uni- 
form in its action than the being in which it is manifested. — 
Such discrepancy would prove that it was not by such oxtrinsic 
power. — The possibility of prediction proves freedom rather 
than the contrary 190-192 

Necessitarians test their views by "statistical results," which, 
having a certain degree of uniformity, admit of like degree of 
certainty of prediction. — Our primary wants being similar, 
and all drawing knowledge from the same reservoir of truth, 
and acting upon similar conditions, it requires some element of 
diversity to account for the individual variations. — Having 
shown that uniformity in the actions of individuals does not 
conflict with freedom, it seems needless to argue that uniform- 
ity in the aggregate of these actions does not. — If the varia- 
tions on the one side " neutralize " those on the other, the esti- 
mated aggregate variations may be very much reduced. — The 
uniformity of aggregates is a uniformity of a second order — a 
Uniformity of Diversity. — Without diversity there could be no 
average species of uniformity 192-195 

Perhaps nothing but finite volitions of finite free agents can pro- 
duce the variety which is the basis of the average uniformity 
of aggregates. — Illustrated by a machine for shuffling cards. 
— Only intelligent cause can produce the variation in the par- 
ticulars which makes room or occasion for the calculations of 
changes or averages. — That each selects his act from all pes- 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 365 

sible acts accounts for the observed diversities which are the 
subjects of these averages. — These have no bearing upon the 

question at issue 195-196 

Reasons why attempts to solve the question of our freedom in 
willing have so often been unsuccessful 196-200 

APPENDIX TO LETTER U. 

Existence of Matter 201-219 

Our Notion of Infinite Space 219-226 



MAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

DISCOURSE I. — IVIAN A CREATIVE FIRST CAUSE. 

§ 1. General Indifference to the Subject. 

Utility of Metaphysics. It may add to intellectual power, and 
thus improve that which invents or makes all other utility, but 
its special sphere of utility will be found in our moral nature . 264 

§ 2. Chakacteristics of Mind. 

Knowledge, feelings, and volition. Mind knows, feels, and wills. 
The will is its only real faculty. An act of will is simply an 
effort. All intelligent beings are thus constituted, and to these 
attributes there is no conceivable limit 265 

§ 3. Relations and Functions of Mental Characteristics. 

It is conceivable that we might have knowledge only, but we 
could not have feeling without knowing it. We might have 
knowledge and feeling without will, but will without these 
would be dormant and merely potential. An unintelligent be- 
ing cannot be self-active. Our sensations are not dependent on 
the will, nor is our knowledg-e. The truth is often apparent 
without effort. The additions to our knowledge are always 
simple immediate mental perceptions. Feeling (sensation and 
emotion) incites to action, but is not itself active. Knowledge 
enables us to direct our efforts, but is itself passive. By will 
■we produce change and thus act as cause. Our own will is the 
only cause of which we are directly conscious. Means by 
which we come to know ourselves, our fellow-beings, and God 
as causes 266-268 



366 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

§ 4. Existence of Matter and its Keia^tions to Cause. 
We know matter only as an inference, from the sensations which 
we impute to its agency, and these are not conclusive us to any 
such external existence. The phenomena are all as fully ac- 
counted for on the hypothesis that they are the thoughts and 
imagery of God's mind directly impressed upon our own. In 
either case it is the expression of his thought, and to us equally 
real. Matter and spirit are still contradistinguished. The ideal 
hypothesis is the more simple and more nearly in accord with 
powers we ourselves exert. We can ourselves create such im- 
agery, and to some extent make it durable, and palpable to others. 
But we find no rudiment of power in these creations of our own, 
and no reason to suppose that any increase of power in the creator 
of them could imbue them with any. If matter exists, being 
inert, it can have no power to change itself, and even if en- 
dowed with power to move, being unintelligent, it could have 
no tendency to move in one direction rather than another. Such 
power of self-movement would be a nullity, and matter can 
only be an instrument which intelligence uses to aid its efforts. 
Against these arguments it may be said that matter has always 
existed and was always in motion, as intelligence, with its 
activity, is presumed to have had no beginning. To assume 
the existence of both when one is sufficient is unphilosophical, 
and the spiritual should have precedence. It is inconceivable 
that matter, which does not know, should create spirit, which 
does know ; while it is quite conceivable that spirit should 
create all we^ know of matter. But whether matter, even if in 
motion, can be a cause or power, depends upon this question : 
If left to itself and the moving power withdrawn, would it stop 
or continue to move ? If its tendency is to stop, it could not 
even be an instrument for conserving or extending the effects 
of other power. Power could not make matter self -active, or 
the subject of government by law. Quiescent it could only be 
acted upon 268-273 

§ 5. Of Past Events as Cause. 

The theory that of every successive event, " the real cause is the 
whole of the antecedents," does not distinguish between the 
passive conditions acted upon and changed, and the active 
agencies which act upon and change them. And further, the 
necessary adjunct and corollary to this theory of succession is, 

- that the same causes must j^roduce the same effects. But all cause 
acts upon a wholly void and therefore homogeneous future ,' 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS, 367 

and as at every instant the whole past is everywhere the same, 
the successive effects must at each instant be everywhere one 
and the same. On this theory of the whole antecedents, the 
same causes never could act twice, and there could be no proof 
from experience that the same causes must produce the same 
effect. The only cause we can logically recognize is that of 
intelligent effort 273-275 

§ 6. Freedom in Willing. 

This has been a prominent question for ages. It has been ob- 
scured by erroneous notions and defective definitions of will 
and freedom. Defects in Edwards's definitions of these terms 
and the consequent fallacies in his results. Will is the faculty 
of effort. An act of will is an effort, a trying to do. Freedom 
as applied to willing is self-control. The object of every effort 
must be to make the future different from what it otherwise 
would be. This is the only conceivable motive. A being with 
a faculty of effort, want to incite, and knowledge to direct it, is 
a self -active being ; could act if there were no other power or 
activity. The will cannot be directly controlled by any extrin- 
sic power. The only way it can be influenced is by changing 
the knowledge by which the being directs its act of will, and 
this would not avail if the being- did not will freely. The no- 
tion of a coerced will, and the expression for it, are self -contra- 
dictory. It is willing when we are not willing. The future is 
always the composite creation of the free efforts of all conative 
beings acting as independent powers in the universe. The 
action even by the lowest order may influence the action of the 
highest. This interdependence of the action of each without 
interference with the freedom of any is illustrated by the game 
of chess. This equal and perfect freedom in all does not im- 
pair the sovereignty of the Supreme Intelligence . . . 275-281 

§ 7. Instinct, Reason, and Habit. 

Instinctive actions have been generally deemed exceptional. We 
perform them so easily, that our agency in them escapes observa- 
tion, and hence they have been regarded not only as not self -con- 
trolled, but as necessitated and even as purely mechanical. That 
all animals at birth, without previous instruction or experience, 
act instinctively, indicates not that the voluntary effort is want- 
ing, but that the knowledge to direct it is innate. In all cases 
requiring more than one movement we must have a plan. In 
the instinctive actions, the plan is innate, ready formed in the mind 
at birth. In the rational actions, we have to devise the plan* 



368 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

When by repetition in act or thought, we come to remember the 
successive steps of this plan, and apply it by rote, without refer- 
ence to the rationale, it also becomes a, plan ready formed in the 
mind, and our action becomes habitual. In it the process is the 
same as in the instinctive, and hence the common adage, Habit 
is second nature. The differences in the three kinds of actions 
do not lie in the actions themselves, nor in the knowledge, nor 
in the application of it to direct the actions, but farther back, 
in the mode in which we obtain the knowledge we thus apply. 
The instinctive and habitual and rational actions are all self- 
directed by knowledge to the end desired. The genesis of our 
actions must be instinctive. Through habit, naemory performs 
the same office for action that it does for knowledge, retain- 
ing the acquisitions of the past for future use. The agency of 
habit, in thus conserving previously considered modes of action, 
and making them permanent accretions to the moral character, 
is its most important function 281-283 

§ 8. Necessitarian Akgument from Cause and Effect. 

Necessitarians assert, that if all the circumstances, including men- 
tal conditions in a thousand cases, are the same, the action will 
be the same, and that this uniformity proves necessity. Ad- 
mitting this, whether one of the conditions in the thousand 
cases is that of necessity or of freedom does not vary the uni- 
formity of the result, and hence the result cannot indicate 
either necessity or freedom 286-288 

§ 9. Influence of External and Internal Condition-z. 

We act as freely on one set of conditions as on any other, and 
such action, being self-conformed to the external conditions 
and our internal desires, is free. Necessitarians have been at 
much pains to prove that our actions are always in conformity 
to our choice or desire, inclination, disposition, and moral char- 
acter. This proves self-control, i. e., freedom. Proof that 
our willing may run counter to our choice, inclination, etc., 
would have better subserved their purpose. The moral char- 
acter is manifested in the willing, but our freedom is not af- 
fected by it. Nor is it material to the question of freedom, how 
the being came to be such a being as it is 288-289 

§ 10. Coltld one will the Contrary ? 

It is absurd and contradictory to suppose that freedom requires 
that one might try to do what he had determined not to try to 
do. The arguments of the necessitarians that our acts of will 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 369 

are not free, because they must conform to our own character, 
desires, and decisions or judgments, virtually assert that one is 
not free because he is constrained to be free 289 

§ 11. Argument from Prescience. 

Edwards and others hold that prescience of a volition proves 
necessity. They illogically assume that it must happen by 
restraint or coercion of the willing agent. If a free act is as 
easily predicted as one that is not free, the argument wholly 
fails. In the known character and habits of the actor we have 
a means of foreseeing what he will do, provided he acts freely. 
If his action is controlled by extrinsic power, even if we know 
the power, all the same difficulties exist as to its action in con- 
trolling the act of another, w^ith the added difficulty of finding 
what the effect of this extrinsic power on the apparent actor 
would be. So that the fi'ee act is more easily foreknown than 
a coerced or unfree act 289-292 

§ 12. A Being with Will, Knowledge, and Feeling, is Self- 
Active. SoiviE Conclusions re-stated. 

Within the limits of its power and knowledge, such a being is as 
Jree as if it were omnipotent and omniscient. An oyster that 
can only move its shell, in doing this so far creates the future. 
For the exercise of his creative powers man has two spheres of 
effort, the external and the internal, conveniently designated as 
objective and subjective. The former is known to us as an in- 
ference from our sensations. Of the latter we are directly con- 
scious. Our efforts for change in either sphere are always sub- 
jective. For objective change we always begin by a movement 
of our muscles 292-293 

§ 13. Is Matter a Distinct Entity. 

Whether we adopt the materialistic or the ideal hypothesis, the 
sensations by which alone we cognize matter are the same, and 
on either it is the expression of the thoug-hts and conceptions of 
its creator, and the only question is, whether he transfers this 
thought and imagery directly to our minds, or indirectly, by 
painting, carving, or moulding them in a distinct substance. 
The former is the more simple, and equally explains all the 
phenomena, and has an advantage in making creation more con- 
ceivable to us. Any one can conceive a landscape, and vary 
it at will. This is an incipient creation, which Ave can very im- 
perfectly, to some extent, represent in durable form and impress 
on the minds of others, showing that we have within us the 



370 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

rudiments of all the faculties which on the ideal hypothesis are 
essential to creating-. The landscape we imagine we can change 
at will, and by this alone we distinguish it from that cognized 
by sensation. If our own incipient creation should become so 
fixed in our mind that we could not change it at will, it would 
be to us an external reality. This sometimes occurs. This 
suggests that the difference between the creative powers in man 
and the Supreme Intelligence is mainly in degree and not in 
kind, and that the disparity, vast as it is, is not so incompre- 
hensible as has been generally supposed. To our own incipient 
creations there is no limit in extent or variety 293-297 



DISCOURSE II. — MAN, IN THE SPHERE OF HIS OWN 
MORAL NATURE, A SUPREME CREATIVE FIRST 

CAUSE. 

§ 14. A Cognitive Sense includes a Moral Sense. 

That the additions to our knowledge are simple immediate per- 
ceptions, not dependent on the will, gives them the character 
of the phenomena of sensation, and indicates the existence of a 
cognitive sense. Some of these increments do not and others 
do require preliminary effort. In this there is no difference 
per se as to our perceptions of the external and internal. In- 
tuitive perceptions are distinguished from the rational by the 
preliminary effort for the latter. We distinguish the percep- 
tions of the cognitive sense as objective, seeing, hearing, etc., 
and subjective as the sense of beauty, justice, shame. And 
when right or wrong is the subject of it, it is the moral 
sense 298-302 

§ 15. Our Efforts for Internal Change are always to 
increase our knowledge. 

We may seek knowledge of the external or internal. Its object 
is oftenest to enable us to direct our actions wisely in the cur- 
rent affairs of life ; but may be for the pleasure of the pursuit, 
or in the possession. A higher object may be to permanently 
increase the intellectual power, or still higher, to improve the 
moral nature 302 

§ 16. The Two Modes of Seeking Knowledge. The Poetic 
AND THE Prosaic. 

By observation, we note the phenomena cognized by the senses, 
and by reflection we trace the relations among the ideas — 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 371 

the knowledge - — we already have in store, and thus obtain 
new ideas, A large portion of our perceptions are primarily 
but imagery — pictures — in the mind. In this form we will 
designate them as primitive perceptions or ideals, to distinguish 
them from those which we have associated with words. In 
this primitive form we can think of, and examine them and 
their relations ; and a not uncommon belief, that we can think 
only in words, is erroneous. Or we may substitute words for 
these primitive perceptions, and then investigate the relations 
among the substituted words. In the difference in these two 
modes we find the fundamental distinction between poetry and 
prose, and also in the two cardinal modes of seeking truth : the 
former being the ideal or poetic; the latter, the logical or 
prosaic. The material universe, in the imagery of which God 
has inscribed his thoughts and conceptions, is the pure and per- 
fect type of the poetic ; while the prosaic or logical is very ac- 
curately represented in the solution of algebraic equations. The 
poetic mode has the greater reach, and is the most efficient 
truth-discovering power. It is an essential attribute, but is not 
limited to men of genius. In its least ethereal forms it is the 
basis of common sense, and the main element of practical busi- 
ness ability. It is also the characteristic of what has been 
termed a woman's reason, giving to her quick and clear percep- 
tions 302-308 

§17. One Method of Increasing the Efficiency of the 

Intellect. 

It is in the higher and more general cultivation of the poetic 
mode, and a more systematic and intelligent selection from 
the two cardinal modes of that which is best adapted to the 
subject in hand, or by a judicious combination of both, that we 
may look for the increase of intellectual ability. The discovery 
and propagation of such modes is in the province of the meta- 
physician, and opens to him an elevated sphere of utility 308-309 

§ 18. Our Creative Power in the Formation of Charac- 
ter, AND THE Agency of Habit. 

It is in our moral nature that our most ethereal attribute nat- 
urally finds its most congenial sphere of action. Statement of 
a mode in which our power of creating and perfecting im- 
aginary constructions may be made practically available in the 
construction and elevation of moral character. The ideal con- 
structions supply the place of actual experience, and in some 
respects have the advantage of it. We cannot directly will 



372 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 

change in our mental affections. The recurrence of our spirit- 
ual wants is as certain as that of the physical. As a man can- 
not do moral wrong* in doing what he believes to be right, his 
knowledge though finite is infallible as to what is morally right 
for him. In castle-building we discard the external, and work 
from our internal resources, and may conceive a material uni- 
verse or a pure and noble moral character. 

The persistent effort to actualize these ideals is their final con- 
summation. There can be no failure except the failure to will, 
and mind is here a Supreme Creative First Cause. 

In the permanent engrafting of these ideals upon the character, 
habit performs a very important part. We must distinguish 
between the mere knowledge of what is desirable and the effort 
to attain it. A man may know that it is best to be pure and 
noble, and yet not only make no effort, but be unwilling to 
become so. To become good without one's own effort is an 
impossibility 309-315 

§ 19. In the Moral Nature the Effort is itself the Con- 
summation OF its Object and Intent. 

The virtue is all in the effort and the intent, and not in its success 
or failure. If the efforts are transitory, the moral goodness 
will be equally so 315-316 

§ 20. The Right or Wrong of Moral Action is all con- 
centrated IN OUR OWN Free Act of Will. 

The nature of the effect makes no difference to the moral quality 
of the effort. The consequences of one's actions may be really 
pernicious when his intentions are virtuous, and may be benefi- 
cent when his designs were vicious. A man who is honest for 
gain will be dishonest if the gain thereby is sufficient. Virtue 
is not reached till he acts from a sense of right and duty, nor 
established till he values moral beauty and purity above all 
other possessions and all possible acquisitions. No moral wrong 
can be charged to a man for an event in which he had and could 
have no agency. There is no present moral wrong either in 
the knowledge or in the exciting want now in his mind, nor in 
the acquisition of that knowledge which he passively acquired. 
There is no moral wrong in the recurrence of our natural v/ants, 
though there may be in oar willing to gratify them, or in the 
time or manner of doing this. Hence the moral right and wrong 
is all concentrated in the act of will — our own free act. A man 
can be good or bad only by his own ageRcy — his own willing. 
Through habit memory p2rforms the same office for action that 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 373 

it does for knowledge — retaining what is acquired, and thus 
leaving the mind at liberty for new acquisitions. We cannot 
directly will not to think of a thing, but we can discard the 
thoughts of it by willing to think of something else, and can do 
the same as to a want. This especially as to moral wants. If 
any one of these is eradicated, there can be no corresponding 
volition. By thus giving some of our internal wants a predomi- 
nance we influence our moral characteristics at their source 317-321 

§ 21. Recital of some of the Fokegoing Conclusions. 

From these it follows that man, in the sphere of his own moral 
nature, is not only a creative, but a supreme and also a sole 
creative first cause. In this sphere the finite mind can will any 
possible change of which it can conceive, and the willing in it, 
being the consummation of the conception, there is no change 
in it of which we can conceive that we cannot bring about 321-323 

§ 22. Our Physical Wants are more uviperative but are 
limited and temporary, while the spiritual are 

boundless and INSATIABLE 323 

§ 23. Ideality is the Nearest Approach to Reality, and 
FULFILS the Office of Experience. 

The scenic representations acted in the theatre within us are the 
nearest approach to reality, and have more influence than logical 
reasoning 324 

§ 24. Good and Evil Infcuences of Ideality. 

Ideality is as potent in our spiritual nature as sensation is in our 
physical Our first creative efforts are in the material, but early 
transferred to the spiritual, and there quickened by the influ- 
ence of unselfish and romantic passion on the young imagina- 
tion. But this beneficent endowment is liable to be perverted 
to evil, and especially through our physical wants, which are 
made less inconstant by the want of acquisition. The power 
of ideality, though less nobly exhibited, is more strongly at- 
tested in its degrading than in its elevating influence . . 324-327 

§ 25. Systematic Moral Training in the Formation and 
Study of Ideal Constructions. 

This much needed to counteract a social system based largely on 
selfishness, and to neutralize the materialistic comfort-seeking 
proclivities of this mechanical and commercial age. But ideal 
contructions have been discouraged and stigmatized as idle 



374 ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS, 

imag-ining-s, leading to groundless hopes and illusive views of life. 
Relieving these processes from such obstruction would be an 
important gain, and might be supplemented by education mak- 
ing ideal constructions a subject of study. For this there is 
encouragement in the fact that woman, to whose care the in- 
fant intelligence is first confided, is by her special endowments 
so fully equipped for this work 327-328 

§ 26. All Sciences first pursued merely for Mental 

Gratification. 

Metaphysics has been thus pursued to the present time. In it the 
progress from abstract speculation to practical utility has not 
differed from that of the other sciences. All have been first 
pursued froni a love of truth, and a curiosity stimulated by op- 
posing mysteries, without reference to ulterior benefit. Meta- 
physics has thus been wrought upon for ages .... 328-329 

§ 27. Solution of Three Problems essential to the Prac- 
tical Utility of Metaphysics. 

First, the analysis of the fundamental distinction between poetry 
and prose, and in it that of the two cardinal modes of seaking 
truth. — Second, our freedom in willing and the fixing of man's 
status as an independent creative power in the universe. — 
Third, the inquiry as to the difference between instinctive and 
rational actions, and in this incidentally determining the nature 
and functions of habit, by which our subjective constructions 
may be made permanent formations of moral character and in- 
corporated into our being as a second nature. The forming of 
habits is under our control, but requires vigilance . . . 329-331 

§ 28. Synopsis of Preceding Results, and Deductions from 

THEM. 

Man's supremacy in the domain of his own moral nature indicates 
it as his especial sphere of action. Ages of successful effort in 
the material sphere has prepared the way for the occupation 
of the spiritual, and we may expect that the advance into it 
"will be marked by the sublimest efforts, and that the results 
will be the crowning glory of all utility 331-333 

§ 29. Argument from Flnal Causes. 

I have faith that all progress in truth will conduce to the happi- 
ness and elevation of man, and that whatever tends to diminish 
our happiness and degrade us will be found to be not true. In- 
fluences of the materialistic doctrines for which I see in them 
no compensation 333-335 



ANALYSIS OF CONTENTS. 375 



§ 30. Concluding Remarks. 

By a constitutional provision our wants, physical and spiritual, 
recur without preliminary effort. Our aesthetic tastes are con- 
tinually touched by the beauty and grandeur of God's visible 
creations. Man is thus reminded that there is within his own 
being" an inchoate universe equally boundless, and which is his 
especial sphere for the exercise of his creative powers, requir- 
ing his effort to reduce it to order and to cultivate it into beauty. 
Constructing this universe within is the principal if not the sole 
end of life 385-336 



